Skywind
by EmruasCat
Summary: Hundreds of demons against the six of us. "At least the fight will be fair," he said out loud.
1. Prologue

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters from Gundam Wing, and I do not make any money from the writing of this fanfiction.

Author's notes: This fanfic is alternate universe in the truest sense: no Gundams, no colonies, no technology. This is set in a fantasy world.

"We are the music-makers,

And we are the dreamers of dreams.

Wandering by lone sea-breakers,

And sitting by desolate streams;

World-losers and world-forsakers,

On whom the pale moon gleams;

Yet we are the movers and shakers

Of the world forever, it seems."

Arthur O'Shaughnessy

Prologue

Once upon a time, there was a world known as Winseria.

The year is 4587. It is the fifth year of the reign of Queen Annabel Une of Lantall, the first woman ever to hold the throne of that land. She is still trying to get her far-flung lands under control; many of her territories, sensing weakness, have begun to resist her rule. It does not help her position in that she is known to be a friend to magical peoples - the elves, sprites, spirits. Once, long ago, these people were held in the highest regard, but now they are hated and feared and blamed for everything that goes wrong in the kingdom of Lantall.

Mages, a cornerstone of the kingdom's society, are in a precarious position at this time. Not quite inhuman, but not considered normal either by the eyes of the magic-less humans of the realm, they are in a continual struggle to survive and prove themselves to the kingdom.

Famous among these mages is the Winner clan. They alone, among all the human mages in the world, dared to treat with the sylven peoples, and were known as friends to all spirits and magical creatures. Legends and rumors abounded about this clan, until recently; their homestead was attacked by a force of powerful demons, and most of the family killed. The few that remained are scattered across the world.

Annabel of Lantall is distant kin to the Winners; she is seeking to gather the few of that clan that are left. They would be powerful allies if she could find any of them, but the few that remain are either unaware of their power, or they choose not to have anything to do with the current political situation.


	2. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters from Gundam Wing, and I do not make any money from the writing of this fanfiction.

Chapter 1

Quatre sat at the table quietly, his eyes on the open book in front of him, but he was not really absorbing a single word of what he was supposed to be studying. Spring had come to Veran Hall, as it did to every place on Winseria, and he was feeling it flowing through him. He wanted to be outside, feeling the sun warm on his face, the sweet breeze in his hair – not stuck in this dusty library memorizing old spells that weren't even used any more.

He sighed and turned a page to keep up appearances, not paying attention to his surroundings. So when an ancient, gnarled hand landed on his shoulder, he jumped and gasped.

"Oh!" Color flooded his cheeks as he realized Master Landros himself had tapped him. "S-sir!" He started to rise out of reflex.

He allowed Quatre to stand, an amused smile on his face. "You are bored, yes?" he asked gently, his musical accent, as always, sending a touch of delight through Quatre. Master Landros had that effect on everyone; there wasn't a person in Veran Hall that didn't adore the sweet old man and his beautiful voice.

Unfortunately, there wasn't a person in Veran Hall that could lie to the old man, either. Quatre could feel his face burning with embarassment, and he looked down as he stammered, "Y-yes, sir."

Master Landros's silence made him look up, as the old man wasn't one to pause for long in conversation. He found him regarding Quatre thoughtfully. "You remember our conversation some time back, do you not, young one?"

Quatre's face burned even more. That Master Landros would think that he would forget anything he said! "Y-yes, of course, sir!"

"Yet you persist in the behaviors I have asked you to tame." There was no rebuke in his tone, but Quatre's face burned even more.

He regarded him in silence for a bit more, then actually sighed, and placed his hand upon Quatre's shoulder, his smile warm and understanding. "It is spring, I suppose it is not entirely your fault. You may have a break, young one. Go outside and take some fresh air."

Quatre left the library almost ready to cry. He so wanted to make Master Landros happy. He remembered the conversation they had had almost three months ago.

"_If you are to become a mage, young one, then you must learn discipline. You are, at this moment, not suited for the calling. You are impulsive, restless. A mage must have patience. You have much difficulty studying the simplest of the old tongues, when to be a strong mage you must be fluent in the most difficult of them. You have a continuous need for sound, for music and laughter and talk, when mages have need for silence to focus on their works and studies. You let the smallest things distract you, when such distractions could be fatal when casting spells of greater strength. You continuously question your instructors, when they are older and wiser than you by far. Do not question what they tell you, and you will learn more."_

He had been caught in his spell-binding voice, the sheer musicality and power of it, when he leaned forward and their eyes locked. Dizziness struck Quatre, and he felt like he was falling into a well, about to drown, when his voice pulled him out, providing him with a lifeline.

"_You must promise me that you will try harder, young one. You have tremendous magical potential, but you will never learn to use it if you do not tame these behaviors. You do not have to kill them off – indeed, that would be most unwise, as they are a part of who you are – but you must learn to have control, over yourself and your impulses."_

He considered the conversation and the advice he had given him as one of his few treasures. His words remained forever in his mind. He tried so hard to obey his advice, but he kept slipping – like this afternoon.

He sighed in frustration, but as he opened the door and stepped out into the courtyard and felt the sun radiant on his face, he couldn't help but feel his spirits lift. _Master Landros is right_, he thought determinedly to himself. _It is just that it is spring_.

He stepped more fully into the sunlight, and as always felt a rush of strength and – he didn't know the precise word for it, maybe an _awareness_. But it was an awareness unlike anything anyone else he knew had. In the sun, he could feel currents of wind, but not only the air flowing – he could smell the scents upon it with the same keenness as a wild thing, and he knew instinctively where each individual breeze had come from. Sometimes he heard voices carried upon the wind, voices from far away that no human should have been able to hear over such a distance. His eyesight was one of amazing clarity, even at night, and each time he stood in the sun he felt that sharpness increase a little. His hearing was on par with his eyesight.

As he stood in the sun, a breeze brushed past him, and he felt the welcome within it. The trees in the courtyard rustled with the wind, a soothing, peaceful sound that drove away some of the self-directed frustration he was feeling. A rare bird, one of few brave enough to enter the magic-soaked grounds of Veran Hall, started to sing a merry tune. The forces of nature were welcoming him back from the entrapment in the library.

_Listen to yourself, _he thought_. Entrapment indeed. I was supposed to be studying the ancient spells of Thiemos, and instead I had to get bored and have Master Landros take pity on me_. The self-directed disgust, calmed for a moment by the soft greetings of nature, returned in full force, and the single bird took flight, leaving Veran Hall and him behind.

He walked across the courtyard to his favorite bench, which sat squarely in the brightest patch of sunlight. He sat down and closed his eyes, intending to meditate.

There was a sharp rustle in the branches of the oak tree nearby. His eyes opened, and he looked toward the tree with curiosity. The spells that surrounded Veran hall prevented any creature that represented danger from entering the grounds. Unfortunately, it also caused most other harmless animals - squirrels and birds and such - discomfort, and as a result there were almost never any animals in Veran Hall's courtyard. What wild thing had had the courage to ignore the wards?

He closed his eyes again after a moment of silence, and the rustle sounded again. He opened his eyes just in time to see a golden streak leap from the tree to land squarely in front of him some ten or twelve feet away.

Quatre caught his breath, his heart pounding. He had never seen anything like this creature. Its main body was that of a golden cat, but this cat was by far the biggest specimen he had ever come across, its head reaching his hips as it stood on all fours quite easily. And it had wings. Sleek, golden, feathered wings proportional enough that Quatre was easily able to see that they were meant for practical flying.

It sat down on its haunches and regarded him with bright violet eyes as any cat would, inscrutably. A muscled hundred and fifty-pound, beautifully golden, winged inscrutable kitty.

Quatre tried to remain calm as he ran the various descriptions of the magical creatures he had studied through his head. None of the descriptions came close to the creature sitting so calmly in front of him.

A movement brought his attention back to the creature. The cat thing was moving, standing and pacing toward him.

The creature paused, and gave him a blatantly miffed look. _Cat thing, indeed!_

Quatre's heart nearly stopped. Had that thing just – !

_Not thing_, the words chimed impatiently in his head, and they were definitely not his own thoughts.

Quatre tried to clear his mind. "I – I'm sorry, I've never seen anyth – anyone like you before," he stammered. Definitely a magical being of some kind, but –

The cat gave him a condescending look, then seemed to soften. _No, you wouldn't have. My kind do not often enter human places_.

"Wh-what are you d-doing here?" Quatre asked.

The cat paced toward him until it was a mere three feet away. _My paw is hurt_.

Quatre looked at the creature's forepaws, and for the first time noticed that the left one was not completely clean like the rest of the polished fur. It was matted with old blood. "Oh!" He started to step toward the cat, the automatic reaction to help the creature so strong within him he didn't even think.

_There is a large splinter of wood driven into my paw_, the cat's voice said. _Will you pull it out for me?_

"Of course." Quatre knelt before the large cat, reaching out for the wounded paw. The cat extended it toward him, settling on its haunches as it did so.

Quatre studied the paw, spotting the trouble almost immediately – a ragged piece of wood was indeed driven deep into the center of the paw. It was not large enough for the cat to be able to pull it out with its teeth on its own, but big enough that it had to be causing the creature a great deal of pain.

Quatre bit his lip. "I can pull this out, but it is likely to hurt a great deal," he warned the creature.

_That is all right. I have some natural healing ability that will allow me to dull the pain and close the wound once the wood is out._

Quatre hesitated a moment, then murmured, "All right," and took hold of the splinter. It was strangely difficult to get a grip on the splinter; it was slick and persisted in trying to escape his pull. Quatre frowned and focused his whole attention upon it, all of his _awareness_. The splinter went dull in his fingertips, and he was able to pull it out with a few tugs.

The cat pulled its paw out of his hand and ran its tongue across the wound. Quatre watched in amazement as the wound closed and the cat cleaned the remainder of the dried blood from its paw. Once it finished, it looked him directly. _Thank you…?_

Quatre realized it wanted his name. "I'm Quatre."

_Your full name?_

The question caught Quatre off guard. He hadn't thought about his family name in so long; last names were not used in Veran Hall. His head actually hurt as he attempted to recall his surname. Yet his family name was a part of who he was, was it not? "…Winner. Quatre Raberba Winner."

_Winner?_ There was a sudden sharpness in the cat's tone. _This is your family name?_

"Yes," Quatre answered, tensing in nervousness at the cat's reaction. What on earth could have caused the cat to react in such a way to his last name?

The creature stared at him a moment, then just as suddenly as it had tensed, it relaxed. _My name is Liandramonedarym_.

Quatre blinked, and tried to pronounce the name. "Liandrameno…?"

_Lian will do, or Sandrock if you like_. The cat's tone was amused.

"Lian," Quatre echoed, smiling. "That's a nice name." And he meant it.

_My kind are not cats. You humans call us the _reanlos.

"Reanlos," Quatre echoed thoughtfully, filing the information away in his mind. "How did you come to be hurt in such a fashion, Lian?"

There was a feeling of hesitation from the cat, then Lian answered, _I was hunting on ground that was part of the territory of another, and was…clumsy_.

Quatre was not foolish, and his senses were telling him that although what Lian said was truth, he was leaving out a great deal. He?

_Yes, he_, Lian agreed. _I am male_.

Quatre's cheeks flushed. "Can you hear everything I think?"

_Just your surface thoughts. I have no way of delving into your private memories or your subconscious._

Quatre still frowned a little, and decided to change the subject. "Why were you hunting on the territory of another?"

_I was not hunting for food. I sought – an object that belongs to me that has gone missing_.

"What sort of object - ?"

"Quatre!"

Master Landros's shocked voice startled him, and he rose to his feet to face to venerable old man. "Master…?"

"Get away from that creature!" he commanded.

"Master – it is all right, Lian is not –"

Landros's eyes went dark with anger. "You question me?" His hand came up, and he traced a glowing symbol in the air. All of a sudden, Quatre's feet were moving of their own accord toward Landros.

"Wha -!" Quatre cried out in alarm. "Master Landros?!" Master Landros was using a compulsion spell upon him? But those spells were not sanctified by -!

A solid force knocked Quatre off his feet and sent him sprawling into the grass. Lian stood over him, snarling at Master Landros. _You_ dare _use compulsion on a Winner?_ There was more rage in Lian's voice than any emotion Quatre had ever sensed from another before.

"Lian, let me up!" he protested. "Master Landros was just –"

"Quatre is mine," the old man said, his voice colder than ice, shocking Quatre. "His family name means nothing here. You will step away from him, _reanlos_. NOW." Compulsion snapped through the air, aimed at Lian instead of Quatre.

The cat's lip curled back, exposing pearl-white fangs in a sneer. _Your pathetic human magic has no effect on me._

"Back away from him," Landros said in a voice of iron. "I'll not have my apprentice corrupted by your accursed ways."

_Winners belong to no one but themselves. Quatre does not even know of his heritage, does he_?

Landros's eyes widened. "Fool boy!" he fairly hissed. "You gave the creature your name?"

"B-but, master, he just –"

"Be quiet!" Landros snapped. Quatre's eyes went wider. He had never seen the master like this – never. What had Lian meant, his heritage?

Lian's sneer grew. _I know you now_. _Look at how shocked your 'apprentice' is. You have never lowered the façade of being a gentle old man before in front of him, have you_, Landros Blackstone?

If it was possible, the old man's rage increased even more. "I cast aside that name upon coming here," he snarled.

_And a good thing, too. I respect the elders of the Blackstone family. You shame their name. You have him under a blinding spell, don't you?_

Blinding spell? All of a sudden, as those words echoed in Quatre's head, a pain shot through his temples unlike anything he had ever experienced, and he cried out in agony. The pain was so exquisite he couldn't think.

_Ah, I see I was right_. The savagery in Lian's tone increased. _I came here seeking help with a magically-induced wound, and what do I find? An heir to the Winner legacy, blinded to his own potential, a slave to the wishes of a greedy, power-draining –_

"Lian!" Quatre protested, his head still screaming with pain. "Master Landros has never taken anything from me. He has tried to teach me –"

_He kept you within the cold halls below ground here, did he not?_

"I –" Quatre couldn't focus. There was something important about that question, but what – "Yes, I spend much of my time inside studying, but –"

_You are a Winner. Your power_ originates_ from the sun and light. You_ weaken _as you spend less and less time within the light. Your Master Landros knows this well!_

Quatre's eyes went wide with shock and disbelief. "Wh-what? No, master Landros would not have –"

_Even now he blinds you to your true thoughts with a deeply ingrained spell. Wake up, Quatre Raberba Winner! Wake up and remember who you are!_


	3. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters from Gundam Wing, and I do not make any money from the writing of this fanfiction.

Chapter 2

Pain screamed through Quatre's head, greater than ever before, and he let out a cry of protest, rolling away from both Lian and Landros – into the sun.

Just as suddenly as the pain had started, it stopped, and Quatre lowered his shaking hands from his temples. He could no longer see the courtyard, or Master Landros, or Lian. Everything in his line of vision was hidden in a blanket of gray mist.

"What-?"

_Do you wish to become as you were?_

The words echoed in Quatre's head, but all they did was confuse him. "I –I don't understand," he said, his voice hoarse.

_You have no memories of your time before Veran Hall, correct?_

What was this voice, that rang with such familiarity in his mind? But…now that he thought about it, he had never once thought about his life before Veran Hall, before Master Landros…

With a cold shock, he realized that he did indeed have no memory of his past before Veran Hall. No memory of his life at all other than the past four years he had spent at Veran.

_You have been under a blinding spell for four years, a control spell for the last three and a half months. Do you wish those spells gone from your body and mind?_

Control…? "What do you mean, control spell?"

_A control spell is a spell that allows the caster free rein over the victim's thoughts and emotions. It requires a significant amount of power and an unguardedness on the part of the victim._

The voice gave the definition calmly, almost with a lack of emotion, yet Quatre sensed iciness within it, a hidden rigidity.

Control. All the time he had been at Veran Hall, he had not been learning, he had not been a student; he had been a puppet to some wizard's whim. As the realization sank in, an emotion he had never felt before began to rise within him. He was not familiar enough with the feelings of human beings to realize it was anger.

_Do you wish to become as you were?_

Quatre heard the question repeated, and asked, "Will becoming…whatever I was before Veran Hall take the spells away?"

_Yes_. _But you are no longer a child. In awakening your memories, your soul-strength will also be unlocked_.

Quatre hesitated, not knowing what "soul-strength" was. Then he slowly climbed to his feet, his fists clenching, the strange, unfamiliar emotion reaching a roaring peak within him. "Then do it! Make me…be as I was!"

_Very well._ The voice paused, then said in something akin to a wry tone, _You may tell Liandramonedarym that since he has awakened this force, he is responsible for it._

White-hot heat screamed through Quatre, and he cried out once more. The mists turned a glowing gold, then a brilliant, blinding yellow, and Quatre shut his eyes in desperation. There was a sound like a thunder-crack, and Quatre felt the ground ripple beneath his feet.

Just as suddenly as the power had surged through him, it stopped. Just stopped. And there was silence.

Quatre was on his knees in a bright patch of sunlight away from both Lian and Landros, gasping for breath.

_-tre. Quatre, can you hear me?_

Quatre closed his eyes, blocked out his surroundings, Master Landros's furious voice, the concerned one of Lian's, and focused.

Focused. For the first time in four years, Quatre was able to clear his mind, and concentrate on a single thing.

Most of what he had "learned" in the four years he had spent in Veran Hall were lies. Landros had had him studying children's fairy tales, and blinded his eyes for four years to the fact that he was not memorizing important information, but rather useless tall tales. He had kept Quatre there, he understood with an abrupt, cold clarity, for the purpose of draining away his power while Landros profited from the results of the usage of that power. _He must be quite wealthy by now_, he thought distantly. _With all of the power he's stolen from me, he could have built ten castles. Out of air._

Quatre Raberba Winner slowly rose to his feet, his eyes clear and his expression calm. "I am fine, Liandramonedarym," he said clearly, not once hesitating over the long, complicated name. With the clearing of his mind, the clumsiness he had so cursed himself for vanished as though it had never been, it too having been a product of Landros's control.

Landros was still and wary. Something was not quite right with his student. He could not read anything in his head; Quatre's conscious mind was curiously blank. "Quatre?" he asked cautiously. "Are you well?"

"Quite well, thank you, master Landros," Quatre answered, his voice still holding that eerie, crystal-clear quality.

Landros frowned. "Then come here," he commanded. "That beast, that _reanlos_, is a danger to you. I used the compulsion spell out of extreme concern for you. I understand that it was an unforgivable violation, but your safety is the most important thing to me at this moment."

He was back to being the gentle, kind old man, with a just a touch of elderly-teacher sternness. In a way, Quatre had to admire the façade he now saw through so clearly. It was well-woven. "Yes, my safety would be important to you, wouldn't it?" Quatre's voice was still clear, calm, but it held a distinct chilliness to it now.

Landros went even stiller, if possible. "Just what do you mean?"

"You _would_ want to protect me." Now the calm from Quatre's voice was gone, leaving an icy deadliness in its place. "After all, I've been your main source of power for the last four years."

Landros's eyes went wide with shock, then narrowed. Quatre was braced for it, but still swayed slightly as a powerful compulsion spell hit him dead on.

_Forget all you have remembered…_

Quatre's eyes closed as he fought the spell. No, I won't.

_I took you in when you were wandering lost and starving…_

What a load of horse crap.

_I am your teacher…You trust me above all else…You are loyal only to me…_

**In a pig's eye**.

There was a _crack_ through the air, and Landros reeled back, his face white.

"Not so easy, is it?" Quatre asked, his voice mocking now. "You caught me off guard four years ago. A lucky break. Be assured that it will never happen again. Winners do not take the betrayal of their trust well." He took a menacing step toward Landros – and stepped into the shadow of the nearby oak tree. The sun was setting.

Quatre felt the strength flowing through him diminish, and swore silently. Landros had been draining off of him for a long time; a few minutes in the sun would not allow him to regain all of that power. He was weakened – and Landros knew it, judging by the confidence that was beginning to reappear on his face.

"You are mine, Quatre," he murmured, his voice tugging at Quatre, weaving a net around him. "This _reanlos_ has grossly deceived you, and even now is planning to attack."

Quatre shook his head, recognizing the powerful hypnotism spell for what it was at last and fighting it. "I belong to no one but myself. You have made me forget this for four years. No longer."

Landros's face darkened with rage. "_Come_," he snarled, and the most powerful compulsion Quatre had felt yet struck him.

He fought it, but his strength was diminishing with every passing second, and one step at a time, his feet began to move toward Landros.

"Lian." All he said was that single word.

The _reanlos_ leaped at Landros, pinning the mage easily and snapping the compulsion spell as he did so.

Quatre remained still for a moment, then raised a hand and almost idly traced a symbol in the air. It glowed gold with his power, and a golden aura surrounded Landros. The mage promptly went stiff as a board.

"You can get off him now," Quatre murmured to Lian. "He won't be going anywhere for quite some time to come, I can assure you."

The _reanlos_ got off the man, swishing his tail scornfully as he did so and batting Landros in the face with it before pacing toward Quatre. _How did you come to be under the control of _him? There was a wealth of contempt in the wildcat's voice.

"A fool mistake on my part," Quatre said a bit absently. His gaze was on the entrance to the main building of Veran Hall, where many "teachers" under Landros's command stood, staring at the scene in front of them. Some of them looked a bit dazed; Quatre guessed that he hadn't been the only one deceived. In initiating the imprisonment spell, Quatre had also severed all ties extending from Landros outward to make sure he couldn't escape by any of them. The severance had, evidently, ruined several control spells.

Quatre regarded Landros emotionlessly. "I am calling in the local Watch. You have clearly been violating the Law of Sovereignty for at least four years, suspected to be much longer. As that law is highly regarded among magic-workers and normal humans alike, I imagine Queen Annabel's penalty for such disobedience will be harsh." He watched rage blaze in Landros's eyes and added in a tone that caused chills to run down the spines of all who watched, "Feel fortunate that _I_ did not take it upon myself to enact justice. Winners have less…tolerance for those who break such laws than the public does."

He pivoted on his heel and stalked away from Landros toward the building, Lian following him. He glanced at the large feline in some surprise. "I'm going to get my belongings from inside."

_Yes, I see that_.

"Don't _reanlos_ hate entering human buildings?"

_True, but I like you_.

A small, mocking smile curved Quatre's lips, but he never stopped walking. "Because I'm a Winner?"

_Partly. But mostly I just like _you_. You have a kindness I've rarely seen in humans._

He glanced at him out of the corner of his eye as they entered the building and second and third-rate mages scrambled to get out of their way. "I am not feeling particularly kind."

_Not many would, after realizing you've been wasting your life for the past four years, with some ass-wipe mage draining your power away._

Amusement flickered in Quatre's expression. "You show a remarkable grasp of the human language and the various connotations of words," he remarked.

_Most of my kind consider me unseemly curious. I have long been studying your kind from a distance. Your use of certain words in certain places and situations provides endless fascination for me._

Quatre turned down a side corridor and proceeded to follow the walled stone path, which subtly but steadily sloped downwards. "The chamber I seek is underground," he commented to Lian. "You may be in for some discomfort."

_As are you_, he pointed out.

"True, but I have had practice tolerating it. You have not."

He reached the end of the corridor and opened the door the stood before them, revealing a small chamber, completely enclosed. A low bed with plain white linens stood in one corner; a rough-hewn dresser stood opposite the bed. There was no fireplace, or decoration of any kind.

_Rather plain_, Lian observed. _This is your room?_

"Was." Quatre walked over to the bed and knelt, groping under it. He pulled out a small wooden box and opened it.

_What is that?_ Lian asked, making his way to Quatre's side curiously.

"Just a few bits and pieces of my childhood," Quatre answered absently, almost sadly, fingering the few small trinkets within the box. A small knife enchanted to unlock any lock and cut any bind. A leather-bound book filled with old tales he had loved when he was small. A delicate emerald hanging from a simple silver chain. A bracelet strung with rare crystal blue beads from the far northern forests. A beautifully-carved mahogany wolf that fit in the palm of his hand. He hadn't looked at the contents of the wooden box in four years, had forgotten the box was even there.

The _reanlos_ sniffed curiously at the carved wolf. _Quite a bit of power put into that, isn't there?_

Quatre shrugged. "Yes, I've felt the power, but it's not a magic I can use or tap into. This little carving's been in my family for years. No one I knew had any idea of the wolf's purpose, or where it might have come from."

_No one you knew_, Lian repeated. _Do you recall much about the Winner clan?_

Quatre heard the intense curiosity in his voice, and smiled crookedly. "My parents were caught in the attack on the Winner home. I was raised by an elderly great-aunt who wanted little to do with the world outside her garden, and rarely encountered other relatives. If you are fishing for information on the remaining Winners, I'm afraid I can't help you."

_And it doesn't help that you were trapped in this place when you were only fourteen,_ Lian said thoughtfully, picking the thought out of his head. _What were you doing traveling alone when you were only fourteen?_

"My aunt had died some months before, and I was looking for a school to study magic." Quatre paused and gave Lian a narrow-eyed stare. "Can you _turn off_ that ability of yours to hear my every thought?"

_No._

Quatre sighed, and set the wooden box on the bed. He went to the dresser and began pulling out various articles of clothing and sorting through them. "I'm curious," he said with his back to Lian. "Why were you so angry when Landros attempted to control me? We are practically strangers, yet you fought for me as though we were the greatest of friends."

_You are a Winner_, Lian said, as though the answer were obvious_. No Winner should be under the control of another._

"I gathered that," he said patiently. "I still don't understand why it's so important to _you_."

Lian paused a moment, then said, _You were kind to me_.

He turned to face the feline, raising his eyebrows. "That's it?"

Lian regarded her. _How much do you know of my kind?_

"Not a whit," he said matter-of-factly. "The first I ever heard of the _reanlos_ was this afternoon. My education in the many types of magical creatures is very limited, and I am rather behind, as you can see."

_Ah_, Lian said, as though something very puzzling had been cleared up. _Then I must educate you, seeing as you know my full name_.

"What's your full name got to do with anything?" Quatre asked, puzzled, as he turned back to sorting his clothing.

Reanlos _are naturally immune to all forms of human magic, as I demonstrated in the fight. However, should we give our full names to a human, that immunity no longer applies when dealing with that human, as the giving of our name renders a connection between the two._

Quatre whirled about to stare at Lian. "You gave me your full name, knowing it would render you vulnerable to my power?"

_Yes_.

He stared at him, bewildered by the simple answer, then something else hit him. "I spoke your full name in front of Landros. Are you vulnerable to his attacks now?"

_It doesn't work that way. You may speak my full name out loud as much as you please. The vulnerability only occurs when _I_ initiate the bond_.

He continued to stare at Lian. "Why in the name of the Dark Lord's Seven Hells would you initiate the bond in the first place?"

_It is done very rarely_, he admitted. _I am the first of my kind to do so in almost three hundred years. I think._

"You think," he echoed dazedly. "Tell me, do your kind consider you…ummm…"

_Eccentric? Mad?_ He sounded amused. _I've heard those words once or twice_.

"Lovely," Quatre murmured. "So you just…decided on impulse to…bond with me."

_Not impulse_, he corrected. _Instinct. I sensed something about you and decided that I was going to become your friend_.

"Okaaay, then," Quatre muttered, deciding that he agreed with the rest of Lian's kind.

_I resent that thought_.

He glared at him. "If you can't turn off that ability to hear my thoughts, will you _at least_ make an attempt to ignore them? You see, there's something humans generally like – it's called privacy."

_But I hear such interesting things in your mind_, Lian protested innocently. _I am always seeking to expand my education in the ways of your kind, you know._

Quatre pulled a carry-sack out of a corner with a sigh. "I'm not so certain I'm the right person for you to study. My aunt always told me I had odd ways, even for a Winner. Perhaps I'm just as eccentric to my kind as you seem to be to yours."

_Then we make the perfect pair_, he pointed out.

There was something in his tone that made Quatre look up from stuffing clothing into the carry-sack.

Lian regarded him. _You have nowhere in particular to go, correct?_

"…No, not really."

_Then travel with me_, he invited. _You know little of the world outside of this hall since you've been stuck here for so long, and I can educate you in the ways of various magical creatures._

Quatre hesitated, certain words echoing in his head, yet not wanting to make a commitment to anything so soon.

Lian cocked his head sharply to one side. _Oh, that's right_, he commented. _The law of awakening. I'm responsible for you anyway – at least until you can fend for yourself with your abilities. We should ascertain just what your level of magical knowledge is._

Lian's matter-of-fact acceptance of the command the calm, emotionless voice had issued was a little reassuring to Quatre. "That…law, it's a recognized one, then?"

_Not among humans_, he responded. _The law of awakening is part of the laws of wild magic._

"Wild magic?"

_The laws of nature, if you will. The laws the creatures of magic adhere to_.

Quatre blinked. "Oh. I didn't know there were such laws."

_Not many humans do, even among mages. It's not generally known knowledge_.

He blinked again. "Oh." He seemed to be saying that a lot lately.

Lian gave him an amused look. _So, you will be traveling with me. I have a great deal of wanderlust. I hope you don't mind._

Quatre stared at him for a while longer, trying to assimilate everything that had happened within the past few hours, then half-smiled. "No. I don't mind. Will you…can you teach me how to use my magic, since my coming here was rather a waste of time?"

Lian gave him the impression of raising an eyebrow at him, even though cats don't have eyebrows. _You already know how to_ use _your power. What you lack is knowledge about specifics_.

Quatre tilted his head to one side. "So will you…teach me the specifics?"

Lian regarded him a moment, then nodded easily. _Of course_.

Quatre let out a breath he didn't know he had been holding. "So."

_So_.

Quatre let out a sound that was half laugh, half sigh. "So where will we be going, O master of mine?"

_NO_. The word resounded with an unexpected loudness in his mind. _I am not your master, nor are you mine. If you are to travel with me, that is the first thing you must understand._

Quatre studied him a moment, then smiled – a full, open smile of something approaching relief. "May we travel as friends?"

The giant cat gave him a superior look. _Finally, you get the idea_.


	4. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters from Gundam Wing, and I do not make any money from the writing of this fanfiction.

*I borrowed several jokes from a fantasy novel in this chapter. An update in the story of their choice to the reader that gets the title of the novel right first ;)

Chapter 3

The city of Cliffbreak was set in the heart of Lantall, the country's capital, center of commerce, fashion, and discontent. It was a city famous for its parties and its battles alike; the people of Cliffbreak at best hot-blooded and at worst – well, not many were alive to describe the citizens of Cliffbreak at their worst.

At the heart of this city was a group of young men and women who had control of the city's politics and wealth. Or seemed to.

A group of rowdy nobles met regularly in the Dragon Princess Inn, famous for its ale and its violence. That day was no exception, as an explosion of laughter caught the attention of many other patrons.

"Really, Doro," Ravena Tró chided. "How awful of you to say such a thing."

"But it's true!" Dorothy protested, grinning. "I saw it with my own eyes. Our dear friend Aiden entered the Harpies' Lair yesterday evening."

Since all present knew Aiden Clearwater to be a shy, quiet clerk who rarely left the privacy of his own home, this statement was met with some doubt, as the Harpies' Lair was one of the most notorious strip houses in the city. "Just how can you be sure it was Aiden?" one of the others asked.

"Maybe Dorothy was on stage last night," Solo Oberont suggested, provoking another round of laughter.

Not offended in the least, Dorothy Catalonia responded with an evil grin that would have shamed one of the demons of the Black Abyss. She reached up to pat her carefully coifed hair with a practiced move, and as she did so her shimmering gold robe fell open to reveal an expanse of skin and much more.

She was wearing a transparent gold dress with glitter sewn all over it in strategic spots to give the illusion of decency. The gown was extremely low cut, and clung so tightly that it left little to the imagination. Several jaws fell open at the display.

Solo rolled his eyes and leaned toward Ravena, murmuring, "She always has to have the last word."

"I wouldn't say 'word' in this case, but I have to agree," Ravena answered, palpably amused.

Dorothy's eyes narrowed in affront, but before a verbal sparring match could be started her eyes flickered beyond the group to the latest entry into the inn, who was handing his finely made dark violet cloak to the door watcher. He was dressed from head to toe in violet, with a beautifully woven dark violet tunic over a shirt of a lighter shade, skin-tight dark violet trousers showing off muscular legs tucked into fashionably slouchy knee-high boots, also dyed a dark violet. A bright purple hat reminiscent of an eastern pirate famous for his sense of fashion complemented the outfit, complete with sweeping white plume. He wore no weapon, but a large jeweled medallion wrought in the emblem of his family was displayed prominently on his chest, and his fingers glinted with several rings.

"Duuuuooooo!!" Dorothy squealed, leaping to her feet and dashing to greet Cliffbreak's acknowledged fashion plate. "Oh, it's been forever!"

"Dorothy, my lovely!" he answered, catching the sparkling woman easily in a one-armed hug. "My world is bright again!"

Dorothy giggled coquetishly. "Oh, you're being silly. Where _have_ you been, Duo? It really has been a while."

"Oh, round and about," Duo answered lazily, walking over to join the rest of Myrna's companions. "Solo, mate, how's it been?"

"Passing, my friend, passing," Solo answered. He rose and the two men gripped forearms with the gravity of old comrades-in-arms, then fell to with a friendly hug. Solo held his friend out at arms-length and eyed him. "Love the hat, Duo, reminds me of Sandros the Fanciful, but tell me, will you turn another color as you ripen, or are you fit to be plucked now?"

The other nobles shouted with laughter as Duo sniffed, highly affronted. "Ripen, indeed. I'll have you know this is the very latest in fashion, Solo. Or at least," he added with a smirk, "It will be once I'm seen wearing it."

Dorothy draped herself over Duo. "Tell us a story," she demanded. "You've been away for so long, you must have some good ones. You owe us a tale for being absent from our little group without word for such a length of time." Several of the ladies present narrowed their eyes in displeasure as Duo did nothing to shift Dorothy out of his personal space.

Duo's eyes were sharp enough, however, and not wanting the cattiness in the group to escalate any further than usual, said hastily, "Now really, Doro, I wasn't without word. I met with Solo in Tibec about a month ago, did I not?" he appealed to his friend.

Solo gave his friend his due. "You did. And I tried to tell you ladies later, but _you_ were all too busy gossiping about the latest of Duchess Relena's fashions."

Upon seeing the expressions of his companions, Duo said in an innocent tone that fooled no one, "Well, I _have_ been working on another spell…"

"Do show us, Duo!" Dorothy said enthusiastically, and was echoed by the others.

"All right then. Let's see, I'll need something truly horrible-looking for this spell." Duo's gaze fastened on Solo's jeweled family crest which, like Duo's own, was displayed prominently on the gentleman's chest. "Oh, I say, Solo, your medallion will do splendidly!"

Solo pretended to wince at the insult, but handed over the item good-naturedly. Duo began the spell, chanting loudly in an arcane language and gesturing broadly. At the end of his phrase he tossed the medallion into the air and Solo was enveloped in a large cloud of – purple, of course – smoke.

When the smoke appeared, there was another shout of laughter. Solo's own fashionable ensemble had been replaced with the short, hot pink robes that the ladies of the city currently favored using after bathing. And there was _nothing_ underneath the robes. The group laughed harder as Solo regarded himself with comical dismay.

Duo chuckled, tapping one finger on his chin thoughtfully. "Hmm. Now, however did _that_ happen?" he murmured innocently. "That's not what the spell's supposed to do." His gaze drifted beyond the group a little, and he brightened, spotting the figure just then stepping into the inn.

"I say, Cousin!" he called out, beckoning the older man over. "Could you come here and tell me what went wrong with this spell?"

The most powerful mage in Cliffbreak stalked over to Duo's gathering. "I wouldn't presume," he rumbled, and took hold of Duo's wrist. "It would seem, Duo, that we need to have another little talk." He glared at those assembled. The others took the not-so-subtle hint and scattered, leaving Duo to his fate.

"Cowards, all of them," Duo said in a musing voice. "Hey, mind the velvet!" he protested as his uncle dragged him from the main gathering room to a quieter, more enclosed area.

"Shut up and listen," Milliardo growled. "You've heard about Rhys Ravenwing."

Duo snagged a glass of wine from a passing steward. "No, can't say that I have. What's the good ranger been up to these days?"

"Very little. He's dead." Duo paled, and a look of remorse washed over Milliardo's features. "I'm sorry, Duo. I'd forgotten that you and Rhys had become good friends."

"Rhys Ravenwing," Duo said in a distant tone. "Your death will be avenged, my friend." Anyone who could have seen Duo at that moment would have had a hard time equating him with Cliffbreak's celebrated fashion plate and notoriously inept mage. The young man's face was dark with rage, a rage all the more remarkable by the control that held it in check, and his violet eyes blazed with a fierce determination.

He focused that flaring look on his cousin and teacher. "Well?" he said, his eyes hard. "I trust you had a purpose behind telling me this, instead of letting me find out through the grapevine?"

Milliardo's eyes remained sad and sympathetic, but he continued. "The ranks of the powerful who support Annabel grow very thin. Rhys was an extremely valuable contact among the rangers that travel the wilds of the sylven territories on the edges of Lantall. It will take months for the queen to find a replacement, and that is time she does not have at this point. Rhys was stabbed to death, supposedly in a tavern brawl. His death was not a coincidence."

Duo leaned back against the wall, folding his arms, the mask of dandy and flippant flirt back in place. "No, the good ranger was never one to involve himself in unnecessary violence. So much easier to simply use that charm he seemed to possess in abundance."

Milliardo eyed his pupil, and sighed, knowing the flippancy was Duo's way of dealing with the strong emotions provoked by the bad news. "I need you to do something for me."

"Somehow, I knew it would come to that," Duo drawled.

"Enough," Milliardo growled. "I am no mark, Duo. You need not carry on the masquerade with me."

Duo shrugged, his emotions hidden behind carelessness. "Sorry, cousin, force of habit."

Milliardo looked at his cousin a moment, then reach into his cloak and pulled out a beautifully done portrait. He held it out to Duo for his relative's inspection.

Duo took it and let out a long, admiring wolf whistle. The subject of the painting was a slender young man perhaps eighteen or nineteen. Shining gold hair framed a delicately sculpted face and tumbled down his back. He had a tightly-muscled dancer's build, a mouth that begged to be kissed, and large, almond-shaped bright teal eyes. Duo was highly partial to that shade – the way teal eyes could shift from blue to green fascinated him. What was unusual about the portrait, though, was the creature that sat on its haunches beside the young man. Unless Duo was much mistaken, it was a member of the _reanlos_, the rare cat spirits that almost never had anything to do with humans.

"Besides being the future bearer of my children, who is he and what has he to do with Rhys Ravenwing?" he wanted to know.

"I've only been able to discover his surname thus far – he's a Winner."

Duo glanced up, his expression alert. "So, I'm supposed to find him and bring him here for Annabel to question?"

"No, you're going to find him and protect him," Milliardo corrected. "This young one was responsible for imprisoning Landros Blackstone. We had been after evidence to get him charged for months, if you recall, and he shows up out of the blue and has him thrown in jail in two blinks of an eye. I pulled the records of the court proceedings when I realized who was being accused. The accuser refused to give his name; the only thing he gave was his last name. However, he provided enough magical evidence to the local Watch that Landros was convicted almost immediately."

Duo whistled again. "Sounds like he'll be the target of Landros' lovely friends for some time to come."

"Indeed." Milliardo's voice was very dry. "Landros had quite a few allies, and they are known to be…rather vindictive. You'll be pleased to know that we have confirmed that it was one of them that was responsible for Rhys' death, by the way." When Duo's eyes narrowed, Milliardo added, "I have Barton gathering intelligence; we'll get the bastard, Duo."

Duo Maxwell's muscles uncoiled slightly, but he still eyed his cousin suspiciously. "So you're just sending your only apprentice – soon due to take his tests for mastery of magic - will-nil into the wilds to go and search for this random – albeit beautiful – man and protect him."

"Correct," Milliardo agreed.

Duo sighed. "Why," he asked theatrically, "do I get the feeling you are leaving something out?"

Milliardo sighed. "Part of the evidence the young man gave was that he himself was held in thrall by Landros under a blinding spell for four years, since he was fourteen. It was a chance encounter with the _reanlos_," he nodded to the portrait, "that allowed him to gain his freedom."

Duo's eyes darkened with anger once more, but just for a moment; the emotion was quickly controlled and hidden. "So," he said slowly, "He probably has little to no idea of the political situation Lantall is in currently."

"Yes," Milliardo sighed. "He and the _reanlos_ disappeared into the wilds directly after the trial, and have not been seen or heard from since. It has been almost two months. I need to know where that boy is."

Duo saw past his cousin's own mask of sternness to the urgency behind it. "Why is this boy so important?" he asked softly.

Milliardo rubbed his temple. "I have a hunch. But that's all I have. I have no proof of my suspicions about this particular boy, and until I do I won't speak of them. Just take it on faith that I believe he would be a good person to have as a friend."

Duo's eyebrows shot up. "Quite a recommendation, coming from you. And you don't even know the boy?"

"No." Milliardo turned back toward main gathering area of the inn. "I suggest you pack your things and find something more sensible to wear. I need you to leave tomorrow."


	5. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters from Gundam Wing, and I do not make any money from the writing of this fanfiction.

*The jokes from last chapter were borrowed from Elaine Cunningham's _Elfshadow_, an excellent fantasy novel for anyone looking for a quick read that's still entertaining.

Chapter 4

"Is it just me, or are you eating more every day?" Quatre grumbled, taking up his bow for the third time that day to go hunting.

_It's just you_, Lian said from his sprawled, comfortable position on the ground. _Do try and get a rabbit or two, won't you?_

Quatre gave his friend and two-month traveling companion a ferocious scowl. "_You're_ the wild animal," he complained. "_You_ should be doing this."

_Ah, but then you'd never become practiced in the hunting skills, now would you?_ Lian asked, amused. _Stop whining, child. It's unseemly_.

"This from the crazy cat that bonded with a human and studies human foul language as a hobby," Quatre muttered.

_Cat, indeed_. Lian sniffed audibly. _Get going,_ child.

Quatre rolled his eyes and walked off, hiding his smile at Lian's fussiness. He did so hate to be called a cat.

It had been two and a half months since the control spell upon Quatre had been snapped. He had contacted the Watch almost immediately after the fight with Landros, and used his family name to see that justice was done swiftly. Landros was imprisoned in Stone Mountain, a prison made especially to hold mages. As soon as he had made certain he would not trouble others again, he and Lian had slipped away from Veran Hall and the city near it. Four years in seclusion had had an affect on him; he no longer felt comfortable among his own kind. For the past two months, he and Lian had traveled through wilderness, and Lian had taught him skills of survival as well as schooling him in the specifics of his personal magic and lecturing him about various magical creatures. He had received more enlightenment in the past two months than he had in the entire four years he'd spent at Veran Hall.

He had also, Quatre mused, gained a close friend for the first time in his life. He liked Lian more than any human he had ever known; the giant cat's strange sense of humor kept him amused and his wisdom caused Quatre to give his respect to him. His matter-of-fact acceptance of strange and unusual things that happened unexpectedly kept Quatre alert, and his natural laziness kept Quatre busy.

The last thought caused him to roll his eyes again. He had quickly learned that Lian was the laziest creature on the face of the planet, and that if he could get Quatre to do for him what he could easily do for himself, he would, without hesitation.

_I'm not that lazy_, Lian's voice said, complaining, in his mind.

He mentally sent him an image of his glare. _Haven't we had this talk before?_ he asked, using the mental communication Lian had taught him.

_I know, I know, don't eavesdrop. I'm going, I'm going_.

The cat's grumbles faded away in his mind, and Quatre smiled a little. He drew an arrow from the quiver strapped to his back and focused his eyes, scanning the undergrowth. His gaze lighted upon a pair of rabbits in a thicket some feet away. He crouched down, intent on his prey.

"Hellooooo over there!" a loud voice shouted, scaring the rabbits away in an instant. "Lovely morning, isn't it?"

Quatre rose to his feet with a scowl. "It _was_," he muttered, watching the traveler approach. The man looked to be roughly in his twenties, with an unusual length of chestnut hair hanging in a braid across one shoulder. It was his clothing that caught Quatre's eyes. He was dressed in blue and green finery that was totally out of place in the wilderness. Obviously a noble of some kind, probably one with the impression of being off on an adventuresome journey, Quatre thought with derision.

As the young man turned toward him, Duo caught his breath. His keen eyes, sharpened by weapons practice and magic, had picked out his figure quite a distance away. He had suspected he was the one Duo sought; now, up close and personal, he was even more breathtaking than the portrait. His beautiful face, however, was currently set in a frown. Clearly, he was not welcome company.

"I say," he said with a disarming smile. "Would you have happened to see a chestnut stallion wander about this way?"

Quatre's eyebrows raised slightly. "No."

Not at all bothered by his clipped answer, Duo went on cheerfully, "It's a funny thing, really. All I did was leave the lad alone for two minutes to take care of a…err, problem, and when I got back the creature had vanished without a trace."

Quatre fought to keep the sneer off his face. The dandy had gone off to take care of his physical needs, and hadn't even bothered to tie his steed's reins to a branch. "Where did you last see the stallion?" Now why on earth had he asked that, he scolded himself.

"Back thataways," the dandy said, waving vaguely over his shoulder.

Quatre looked in the direction and sighed. He paced forward past the man into the thicket.

Duo followed him, chattering inanely. "I say, you look to be a ranger sort," he said hopefully. "Think you could help me find my horse? I had several important articles in my packs, you see, gifts to my lady-friends…"

Quatre ignored him, not caring about how many mistresses this annoyance had. He studied the ground for a moment, then paced off to the left, following the faint trail of hoofprints the horse had left in the ground. As he suspected, they found the horse grazing not too far away from where the noble had left him; the creature, well-trained enough not to leave his master apparently, had simply sought out a better source of food.

"Well!" the man exclaimed, delighted. "You found him so fast! My eternal thanks…?"

Quatre heard the hint for his name well enough, and ignored it. "You are welcome." He turned to head back toward his own camp.

"A moment," Duo said hastily.

Quatre turned and regarded him with impatience. "Yes?"

Duo gave him another disarming smile. "Well, it's another funny thing, really. I'm lost. And I'm rather hopeless in the wild, as I'm sure you noticed."

Quatre nearly groaned out loud, realizing what the dandy was getting at. "You need a guide."

Duo ignored his slightly defeated tone. "Oh, _would_ you? I would be in so much of your debt. Just to the nearest town, I swear. Of course, I know this must be out of your way. I'll compensate you well for the trouble." He patted a smaller pouch tucked into one of the larger ones that jingled.

Quatre pressed his fingertips to his temple, where a headache was beginning to form. "The nearest town is a good week's travel from here," he said slowly and deliberately. "How on earth did you end up out here?'

Duo tried a smile of charm rather than a disarming one this time. "Yes, well, I had a bet with some friends of mine. They told me that I couldn't survive out here for a day, and I have. The problem is, however, that it's been more than a day. I've been lost in these woods for near two weeks now."

Quatre took a closer look at the dandy. His clothing was stained from continuous wear. He was thinner than was normal for his height, and there were circles under his eyes. However, tired and under-nourished though he looked, something about his story didn't sound quite right to Quatre.

"You have quite the will to have lived out here for such a time with no experience in surviving in the wilderness," he said with grudging admiration. "However, I fail to see how you ended up so far from civilization in the first place. You're not stupid, I doubt you would have wandered so far willingly."

Duo heard the unspoken _completely_ between the words "not stupid," and grinned deprecatingly. "Yes, well, I hired a guide to show me a bit of the wilderness while I was fulfilling my bet, and he…err, decided to break contract early."

Quatre's eyes flashed. "He abandoned you."

"Just so," the noble admitted. "Stole a good bit of my purse, too. A good thing I kept this hidden in my spare clothing," jingling the small purse of money he still had.

Quatre came to a decision. "I will take you to Hitsome. That is the nearest town. _However_," he said over the dandy's effusive thanks, "I travel with a friend already. If you object to magical creatures, then we have a problem."

Duo's eyes sparkled with excessive curiosity. "What sort of magical creature do you travel with?" he asked brightly.

"A _reanlos_," Quatre said, hoping the dandy would be typical of his type and be too proud to ask what a _reanlos_ was.

"_Reanlos_ – a very powerful cat breed of magical creature, known for its gift of flight and immunity to human magic," the noble recited in a learned tone, then blinked. "But hey, aren't they also known for _avoiding_ humans?"

Quatre's eyes narrowed slightly. The noble wasn't as stupid as he looked. "Just so," he agreed, beginning to walk back toward his own camp. "If you're coming with me, then follow," he added shortly over his shoulder.

Duo hurriedly grabbed the reins of his stallion and strode after him. "I say," he called. "If we're to travel together, shouldn't I know your name?"

Quatre paused and allowed the noble to catch up with him, thinking about the question. "You may call me Kat," he said finally, beginning to walk once more.

"Master Kat," the noble said, somehow managing to sweep him a bow while walking and holding a horse's reins. "My name is Duo, by the way. Duo Maxwell."

Quatre's eyebrows drew together when he heard the noble's full name. He recognized the name Maxwell, but he could not recall how. He allowed the puzzlement to fade from his mind, but made a mental note to think about it later.

They reached the clearing where Quatre had set up a tent large enough for himself and Lian to sleep comfortably in; for some reason, the cat insisted on sleeping beside him. Lian was currently sitting on the ground directly outside the tent; he lifted his head interestedly as the two humans entered the clearing.

Duo eyed the cat with some trepidation. If the _reanlos_ could truly hear his conscious thoughts as was said to be, then the whole plan of following the Winner boy about and learning his secrets while protecting him was about to go flying out the proverbial window. He was about to find out if the shields his uncle had erected around his mind would hold up.

Lian probed the stranger's mind and came up against a magical barrier preventing intrusion. Surprised, the _reanlos_ sought further, then withdrew as he realized just who had erected the barrier. _Well, well_, Lian thought to himself. _This is going to be interesting_.

"Liandramonedarym, meet Duo Maxwell," Quatre said flatly. "Explain to my friend why you will be accompanying us, Maxwell. I have hunting to do." He stalked out of the clearing once more, leaving Duo alone with the very dangerous _reanlos_.

Duo stared at the reanlos with something approaching awe. "It was true then," he remarked quietly. "You bonded with him."

_What business is that of yours?_ The voice echoed powerfully and painfully in Duo's head. Lian muted his voice with Quatre out of consideration for his sensitivity. He made no such concession for the stranger intruding in their camp.

"You know who sent me," Duo said, low and intense.

_Milliardo Peacecraft has ever been a meddler_, Lian said icily, still not bothering to repress his power.

Duo winced. "You wouldn't want to turn down the volume a bit, would you?" he asked plaintively. "He's going to hear you if you keep talking like that."

Now the tone of the _reanlos_ turned withering. _Unlike you_ humans, reanlos _can shield their words from any that they do not wish to hear them._

Duo sighed. "Look, I'm not your enemy."

Lian stared at the human for a long moment, then commented, _You've established quite an elaborate masquerade just to be able to travel with my Winner._

"He is of the clan, then?" Duo asked intently.

_Of course_, Lian responded derisively. _Don't take me for a fool, mage. You knew what he was the instant you laid eyes on him._

Duo watched the _reanlos_ carefully. "Are you going to tell him what I am?"

Now it was the cat's turn to watch Duo. Finally, he answered, _No, that I will not do. His interference I do not like, but I respect Milliardo Peacecraft. If he sent his most promising apprentice to my Winner's side, he must have had a reason. You may carry on your silly masquerade with Kat. But be warned that he is very far from stupid. You will have to be on guard at all times if you do not wish him to realize you are more than you seem._

Duo stared at the creature in amazement. "How on earth…?"

The _reanlos_ actually snorted, swishing his tail disdainfully. _Milliardo would only bother putting that powerful of a shield around your mind if you had other things besides your true identity to hide. The shield was not meant to protect against _my _probes, was it?_

Duo let out a long, admiring whistle. "You are very good."

_Thank you._

Quatre stepped back into the clearing, carrying four dead rabbits shot cleanly through the head in one hand, a load of firewood cradled in his other arm. "Finished explaining?' he asked Duo shortly.

"Yes, quite." Duo was eyeing the rabbits in his hand with something approaching disgust.

He raised an eyebrow at him. "If you are not used to eating game after being stuck for two weeks out here…"

Duo smiled faintly. "No, it's not that. It's just that I do so hate having to skin those things. My father's hunters tried to make me learn, but the lessons didn't stick."

"Don't worry about it. I'll be doing the hunting and cooking," Quatre said, still shortly. He looked at Lian questioningly.

_Just an airhead of a dandy_, came the cat's quick reassurance. _The idiot really did come out here on a bet. I'm stunned and amazed that the fool hasn't been eaten by something nasty yet._

Quatre's lip curled slightly, then he regained control of his expression. He looked over at Duo. "Do you have something to sleep on?"

"Yes," he answered readily. "The bet was supposed to be for twenty-four hours, so I brought a sleeping pack on the assumption I'd catch a nap at one point." He eyed Quatre's tent. "Will that thing hold the both of us?"

"No," Quatre said, amazed that he would even have the audacity to ask. "I have a spare sleeping pack and tent. You can use that."

"Oh." He actually had the gall to look disappointed, and Quatre stared at him.

"Perhaps I should make something clear while we're on the topic of sleeping," he said with deceptive calm. "If you touch me in any way without my given leave, I will hurt you. In a permanent manner."

Duo eyed him nervously; the man was deadly serious. "Yes, sir."

The sharpness faded from Quatre's eyes, to be replaced with weariness. "You may dispense with the titles as well," he said tiredly, walking a little ways away from Duo, sitting down, and drawing his skinning knife from his belt. "I gave you a name to call me by. The extra is not necessary."

"Kat," Duo said thoughtfully. He glanced over his shoulder in inquiry. Duo smiled at him. "Just trying it out. Rather short, isn't it?"

Quatre shrugged, turning his gaze back to his work.

"Not that there's anything _wrong_ with your name," Duo said hastily, under the impression he had offended him. "Kat is a very pleasant name. It's just that I don't know your surname."

Quatre finished skinning the first rabbit before replying. "My full name is Quatre Raberba. Like I said, Kat's enough."

"Master Kitty-Kat," Duo said in a delighted tone. "The gods truly smiled upon me today when I met you."

A corner of Quatre's eye twitched at the playing Duo did with his name. It was going to be a _long_ week traveling to Hitsome.


	6. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters from Gundam Wing, and I do not make any money from the writing of this fanfiction.

Chapter 5

"It's Kat," Quatre said for the umpteenth time. "Not _m'lord Kat_. _Not Kitty-my-Kat_. And NOT _Cranky Quatre_. Kat. Do you understand?"

Duo eyeballed the dagger being held just under his left eye. "All you had to do was say so," he said reproachfully.

"I have," Quatre said with deliberation. "Many times. Since you do not understand the concept of a _hint_, I have been forced to be a bit more direct."

"If this is what you call _a bit more direct_, I don't want to see what you call being forceful," Duo muttered, edging away from the sharp blade.

He grabbed Duo by the collar. "Do we have an understanding?" The knife pricked Duo's throat.

"Agreed, agreed!" Duo said in great haste. Quatre released him and Duo rubbed a thumb across his throat, blotting the tiny smear of blood trickling from the light cut the dagger had given him. "Sheesh. All I was trying to do was lighten the mood a bit."

Quatre ignored him, sheathing the dagger and striding ahead.

It had been three days since he had met the dandy, and he had hated every minute of it. His blessed solitude was completely destroyed; the fool insisted on flirting with him all hours of the day, teasing him with various versions of his name, and continuously pestering him about magic. He cursed himself mentally, over and over, for revealing that he had some knowledge of magic. Apparently the fool was a wannabe magician, and persisted in showing off the few ridiculous spells he knew – over and over.

He scowled. He was not stupid; the noble had avoided his questions about where he was from and the circumstances behind the bet that had gotten him stranded too easily. He was hiding much from Quatre, and he did not like it. He knew the noble was not as big of a fool as he seemed.

A chill went down Quatre's spine as he passed beneath an oak, and he stopped abruptly.

"I say, what is it?" Duo asked, trotting up behind him, dragging on his horse's reins.

He paid the idiot noble no heed, focusing his senses.

_wind whistling…the scent of deer and rain…._

_There doesn't seem to be anything wrong_, Quatre thought, frowning. _So why did my sixth sense give me a warning?_

"Quatre." Duo touched his shoulder. "What is it?"

He immediately jerked away from his touch, and glared at him.

"Hey." Duo held up his hands in the general symbol of peace. "I wasn't meaning any harm, Kat. I just wanted to know what's got you spooked."

Quatre blinked, and looked Duo directly in the eyes. The fool was actually concerned about him. Or more likely, he thought derisively, he was concerned with whatever was bothering him, and whether it would provide any risk to his own skin.

The stillness in the air was all that warned him. He threw himself forward at Duo, pinning him down as a hail of arrows hissed out of nowhere at them. The horse went down with a scream of agony as several arrows struck him in his throat. Quatre gripped Duo, forcing him to roll with him out of the open path and into the thicket.

"What?!" Duo gasped. He clamped a hand over Duo's mouth hard, his other hand busy tracing golden symbols in the air in front of him. _Lian, a little help would be nice!_ he called to his friend, who was out hunting his own meal for once.

Another hail of arrows came seemingly out of nowhere, and he instinctively ducked, forcing Duo down with him. Several arrows struck the ground near them; they would have hit if not for the invisible force field his hasty spell had erected. Unfortunately, that haste had a cost: the spell would not last long.

Now _would be a good time, Lian!_

The _reanlos_ erupted onto the path with a feral roar. He threw himself up into the branches of the oak, battling with an opponent hidden from Quatre's eyes. He strained with his magical vision, but still could not see what it was that Lian wrestled with so fiercely.

The _reanlos_ snarled, then let loose with a high-pitched screeching noise that made Quatre's head scream, and Duo cried out. There was a sound very akin to a thunder-clap, and the _reanlos_ fell from the tree, still locked in battle with a now-visible creature.

A demon of some kind, the thing had the body of a large goat, with curled horns and long, deadly claws on its feet instead of hooves. Its teeth were long, its snout shaped more like that of a dog than a goat. It had tremendous flexibility, and Lian was using everything ounce of physical strength he had to keep the creature restrained.

_An imprisonment spell!_ he snapped at Quatre. _Now!!_

Quatre didn't stop to ask questions. His hands flashed with lightning speed through the air, gold fire lashed from his hands. The creature let out a shriek of rage as the magic wrapped around it, and black fires rose from it as it fought Quatre's spell. Quatre's lip curled in scorn; he spoke a single word that made the air around him hum. The gold fires lashing the demon expanded, forming themselves into a cage – a thing he knew it would hate more than being tied up.

It took the creature a few moments to realize what had happened. Then it threw itself forward with a howl of absolute fury. There was a sparking sound, and the smell of burned flesh as the creature pulled back from the fires, howling in pain.

"What the hell is _that_ thing?" Quatre asked Lian.

_An eim_, Lian growled, licking at the nasty cuts inflicted by the demon. _It's a low-level demon, easily controlled by an outside force. It has a limited ability of blocking_ _its presence from mages – that's why you couldn't feel it. Why this one attacked _us – _with arrows of all weapons – is something I can't answer. And don't bother asking the demon, either_, he added as Quatre's icy gaze turned on the demon. _It's not intelligent enough to understand anything but the most basic of human words. Kill, hunt – those sorts_.

"So I can assume it was sent after something?" Quatre asked softly.

_Most likely. I still don't understand the arrows, though. Eims don't use human weapons._

Apparently, he had used an open path of telepathy, for Duo heard those words as well. The noble stooped and picked up one of the arrows gingerly, studying it. "I think I can answer part of your question, Lian," he announced.

Quatre's razor gaze snapped to him. "Well?"

"Look at the tips of these things," he said, holding the arrow out for his own inspection.

Quatre narrowed his eyes, then let out a hiss of breath. The tip of each arrow was coated with a gooey white substance – poison of some kind. But that was not what held Quatre's attention. At the tip of each arrow glowed a bit of magic – not much, but a touch of human magic was there.

"It would appear you are right," he said, soft and deadly, glancing at his cat friend. "The demon was being controlled. Take a look at the tips of the arrows." The cat focused his gaze, and let out a hiss of his own.

Duo missed what they were talking about completely. "How can poison control a demon?" he wanted to know.

Quatre glanced at him. "You claim to be an aspiring mage. Focus your magical sight, if you have any, on the tips of the arrows."

"That is mean," Duo objected. "Of course I have magical sight. You can't be considered a mage without it." He stared at the arrow for a long time, then suddenly his eyes went wide. "Oh."

"Oh," Quatre echoed sardonically. "My, but that didn't take you too long."

He actually gave Quatre a glare. "I'm not that good at using my sight," he said, sounding defensive.

Quatre cocked an eyebrow. Finally, something seemed to annoy Duo. He'd have to remember to twit him about it the next time he got on his nerves – which should be all of within the next five minutes.

"Let's go," he said calmly, stepping out into the path once more. He spared a glance for the horse – dead. He stooped, retrieved his own simple pack, and straightened. He looked over his shoulder at Duo. "Get your things. We have to get out of here."

"My horse…"

"Is dead. You're walking now – get over it," Quatre said flatly. He bent down, grabbed the two bags he knew to contain the most important of Duo's belongings, and tossed them at him. He caught them reflexively. "Come on, we've got to get going."

Duo looked over at the demon, still howling in its cage. "What about that…thing?"

Quatre regarded it coldly for a moment, then gestured. The gold fires closed tightly about the creature. It only had time for one last shriek before it died a burning, most painful death. The golden fires lifted from the charred corpse, swirled into a knot, and returned to Quatre's outstretched hand, absorbing back into his skin.

He looked over at Duo, who was staring at him with his mouth open. "I show no mercy to those who try to kill me," he said coolly. "If you want to get to Hitsome alive, I suggest you start walking. Now." When Duo continued to stare at him, he calmly started off down the path, Lian pacing beside her. After a moment, he heard Duo scramble to catch up.

_It was no coincidence that eim was on this particular path_, Lian said quietly, in Quatre's mind alone.

_Yes, I figured that out_, Quatre responded tightly. _But was it after me or…_

_Not Duo_, Lian said, reading the suspicion in his mind_. Yes, there is much that noble keeps quiet about, but the focus I read in the creature's mind was on you. Those arrows were meant to kill _you_, unequivocally._

_And because it wielded human weapons, we have no choice but to assume I have a human enemy_, Quatre thought bitterly. _So soon out of my captivity, too_.

_Do not worry too much_, Lian said softly, and Quatre heard the menace in his voice. _You have me to watch over you, and that is no small reassurance among my kind_.

Quatre did not stop walking, but he put his hand in the fur below Lian's ears, and scratched him gratefully.

_Mmmm_. Lian leaned into the touch even as they walked. _A little further down…a little further…ah, there, perfect…_The giant cat audibly purred. A corner of Quatre's mouth twitched ever so slightly.

Duo walked quietly, observing the two interact. Quatre was obviously very close to Lian, and the way Lian had fought the demon told the mage that Lian bore a strong loyalty to the Winner. Duo stored this knowledge away in his mind, and made a mental note to ask his cousin about the dealings of the _reanlos_ with the Winner clan. _Reanlos_ could be damned useful to those they decided to befriend.


	7. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters from Gundam Wing, and I do not make any money from the writing of this fanfiction.

*Milliardo and Anne Une (Annabel) may seem a bit OOC right now. I promise there's a point to it, it's just going to take some plot development to get there.

Chapter 6

Milliardo watched his apprentice and cousin interact with the Winner boy, and couldn't help but wince in sympathy for Winner. There was such a thing as going too far in acting the fool.

"Lord Peacecraft."

Milliardo passed a hand over his seeing crystal, blanking it, before turning to face the servant who stood nervously by his door. "I asked not to be disturbed," he said slowly.

A cloaked figure pushed past the servant into the darkened room. "Do not blame your man," a soft, rich alto advised. "He had no choice in the matter."

Milliardo recognized the voice and sighed. He glanced at his servant, waved a hand briefly in dismissal. As the man gladly made good his escape, the cloaked figure closed the door firmly.

Milliardo gestured toward a chair. "Care for a seat, your majesty?"

The figure threw back her hood, revealing a lovely woman. Honey-colored hair hung in curls about the woman's proudly sculpted face, for once loose and unrestrained. Large, almond-shaped grey eyes shone bright and sharp in the woman's face. Her figure was perfect, sculpted by diet and exercise and – in secret – martial arts. Annabel Une of Lantall possessed the fresh beauty of a woman just south of her twentieth year, yet Milliardo knew the woman to be in her middling thirties.

Annabel sat on the chair offered, moving with unconscious grace, not the grace of a lady, but the silent feline grace of a fighter. Not many were able to tell the difference, but that grace spoke volumes to the few who had studied martial arts and hand-to-hand combat to the same extent that the queen had.

"So," she said, her brilliant, razor eyes focused on Milliardo. "You have found another Winner for me?"

Milliardo, like most, was discomforted under that gaze, but was careful not to show it. "I really must see about buying some of your intelligence agents away from you," he remarked in a low drawl. "You have quite the network to have discovered my activities this soon."

Annabel cocked an eyebrow sardonically at him. "You have sent your strongest apprentice – the one you intend to be your heir – to the wilds of the southern forests," she said. "Surely it's not a pleasure jaunt, with his mastery exams so soon."

There was a pause, then, "No," Milliardo admitted quietly.

Annabel waited.

There was another pause, then Milliardo sighed. "You wouldn't want to just let me handle this one on my own, would you?" he asked in an almost plaintive tone.

Annabel cocked her eyebrow further. "He _must_ be powerful," she commented. "The only time you ever want to work alone is when the matter deals with a tremendous amount of magic."

Milliardo nearly groaned at his slip. "Whoever said it was a he?" Milliardo said, giving in.

Annabel smiled. "Oh, I have my ways. Are you going to tell me about her, or am I going to have to find out the hard way?"

Milliardo eyed her, then spoke in a tone of more seriousness. "I cannot stop you from watching this man, your majesty, but I warn you, tread carefully. There are many shadows that dog the footsteps of this particular Winner."

Annabel's eyes grew sharper in intensity. "So, he has already made some enemies?"

"More than the usual, I think," Milliardo said quietly.

"Meaning…?"

Mandros took a seat of his own and pressed his fingertips to his temples, trying to figure out how much to tell this overly curious queen without putting her in the same danger he had just witnessed the Winner boy face.

Annabel eyed her long-time friend carefully. She knew Milliardo kept much from her to protect her, knew that he was deep in hidden counsels with the others mages of his caliber for a matter of great import, perhaps of imminent value to her country. She trusted Milliardo with her life, but she did not trust him to keep her informed of things relevant to her rule, as the mage had a habit of wanting to fix things himself before the problem reached national proportions. Her intelligence networks provided some counter to that, but only to a point. She would have to rely on her own skills of persuasion to get Milliardo Peacecraft to tell her just what the hell was going on.

"Milliardo," Annabel said, schooling her expression and tone in calm. "I am not a fool, do not treat me like one. If there is something you fear to tell me because you think the knowledge may place me, or another, in danger, then say so, not dance around the subject. Please. I have to deal with enough evasion and deception at court."

Milliardo looked quickly at his friend, then sighed. "There is much I do not wish to speak of concerning the Winner, but it is not because it would place you in danger," he half-lied. "The suspicions I harbor concerning his parentage and power are only that – suspicions, at the moment. He appears to have a great many enemies, one of which has power over minor demons."

Annabel breathed in sharply. "You know this for a fact?"

Milliardo nodded. "I sent Duo after him so I could observe them without the Winner's own powers warning him of my eyes. Duo's power overshadows mine, so I am able to watch over them both without the Winner's brand of magic realizing what is happening."

Annabel's eyebrow arched again. "But surely he can feel the power in your cousin."

Milliardo shook his head. "Duo has a singular gift for concealing what he is," he reminded Annabel. "Just because he rarely bothers with the mask in your presence does not mean it cannot exist when called upon. In addition to his extraordinary acting skills, he has a great power over illusion. The Winner boy believes him to be a wannabe mage, an inept fool trying to do magic because it's 'the popular thing.'"

Annabel leaned back in her chair, eyes narrowed. "How is Duo to protect him, if he must maintain the mask of fool at all times with him?"

Milliardo smiled faintly. "Doing things without seeming to do them is another of his many talents. Please don't ever tell him I said the word 'many' in connection to his talents, by the way."

Annabel returned his faint smile, then sobered as the memory of Milliardo's previous words hit her. "So your suspicions were correct about the _eims_? Someone is controlling them?"

Milliardo nodded grimly. "Or some_thing_. Until I have more information, I cannot discuss this any further with you, your majesty. I am sorry."

"The apology is not necessary from you, old friend," Annabel said gently, rising. She held out her hand and he gripped it for a moment in the gesture of old comrades. "You will, though, inform me of any information you receive on the Winner." It was not a request. It was a command.

Milliardo looked at his friend for a moment, then rose and bowed. "But of course."


	8. Chapter 7

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters from Gundam Wing, and I do not make any money from the writing of this fanfiction.

Chapter 7

"What is it?"

Duo blinked, glancing his way. "Your pardon?"

Quatre continued to carve the piece of wood he had been fiddling with, his eyes on the fire in front of him. "You've been quiet all day. That's unusual for you. What's bothering you?"

It was the night of their fifth day of travel together. Ever since the battle with the demon, Quatre had noticed a change in the way the noble treated him: no longer teasing him relentlessly, he seemed to accord Quatre a certain amount of respect, but had still chattered to him endlessly, pestering Quatre with questions about his knowledge of the fighting magic he had used that day, what he knew about demons, and several other random subjects thrown in. However, that day he had been all but silent, an event so unusual Quatre felt prompted to ask if something was wrong.

Duo shrugged. "I'm just…thinking." At Quatre's raised eyebrows, he asked wryly, "Is it really that difficult to believe?"

A corner of Quatre's mouth twitched. "I'm just not used to you being quiet, that's all. What are you thinking about that's got you so deeply wrapped up in yourself?"

Duo cocked his head at him. "Do you promise not to hurt me?" he asked warily.

This time a smile managed to cross his face, briefly warming his expression into something beyond beauty and taking Duo's breath away. "I'm not as vicious as all that," he said softly. He pushed a hand through his hair, his gaze still on the fire. "I'm just…used to solitude. When you appeared out of nowhere, it kind of…threw me for a loop. I'm not used to being social."

Duo studied him intently. Quatre seemed to be in a much more mellow mood than he had ever been since he had first met him. Deciding to test his luck, he said, "I've been wondering why someone so obviously beautiful and talented as you is wandering about this wilderness. You'd hold your own in any court, I know you would. So why are you avoiding humankind?"

A wry look settled in Quatre's eyes. "Let's just say my teenage-hood wasn't…very nice. I'm more comfortable with Lian than with most humans."

_That_ was the understatement of the year, thought Duo, recalling what his cousin had told him about Quatre being under a control spell. "You seem comfortable enough around me," he pointed out.

Quatre's eyes flickered toward him, then away to the fire again. "You are the first human being I have spoken to in almost three months," he said quietly.

Duo stared at him. "Are you joking?"

"No."

"Damn," he said in some awe. "I don't think I could go that long."

The small smile flickered again, and Duo congratulated himself on bringing it out. "You should smile more," he told him. "So much nicer than that frown of yours I usually see."

Some of Quatre's acidity returned as he remarked, "If you could figure out that I do not like being flirted with or called silly names, you wouldn't see me glare at you so often."

Duo sighed. "There, I've gone and made you cross again. And I didn't even mean to."

Quatre cocked an eyebrow at him. "Yes, you seem to have a singular talent for doing that," he commented, more in amusement than in aggravation.

Duo cocked his head at him again. "_Why_ don't you like being flirted with? You're so beautiful, there must have been men and women in and out of your life for a while now."

Again, Quatre glanced away. "I…did not have much of a life when I was a child. I rarely had the company of others my age."

Duo grinned at him. "Listen to yourself, Grandfather," he teased. "Come, you can't be more than eighteen. If you want to get really technical, that's still a child."

Quatre kept his eyes on the fire. After a few moments, he shook his head without looking at Duo. "I have not been a child since I was five years old." His voice was so low, it was nearly inaudible.

Duo stared at him so hard, Quatre turned his gaze toward him, feeling the intensity. "Now, why would you say something like that?" he asked, his voice nearly as soft as his had been.

Quatre shrugged, the movement hiding the powerful emotions the conversation had somehow managed to stir up, emotions he had learned to repress by the time he was nine. "Because it is truth." He stood and walked to his tent. "I've had enough talking for one night. A good evening to you."

"But –" Quatre shut the tent flap firmly on his protest, and Duo had come to know him well enough to know that he would get nothing more from him that night. He sighed, and glanced at Lian. "I don't suppose you would care to explain that little comment to me."

_No, I would not care to_, Lian answered in a lazy, complacent voice from where he was lying sprawled perilously close to the fire, eyes shut. _It is Quatre's business, not yours._

Quatre, listening from inside the tent, sent his silent thanks to his feline friend.

The next morning was dank and gray and foggy - a miserable day for travel. Quatre crawled out of his tent with a tired sigh – he had not slept well, haunted by dreams of dark memories so distant he wasn't sure if they were real or imagined. If they were imagined, then he cursed his vivid imagination and whatever had stirred it up. If the memories were real…

Without even thinking about it, he reached out and curled his fingers tightly into the scruff of Lian's neck, who stood by his side scanning the gray sky for some sign of sunlight. If the memories were real, then he had witnessed things no child should ever have seen.

_That's a bit rough,_ Lian said mildly, not pulling away, but shifting uncomfortably beneath his grip.

Instantly he released his friend. _I am sorry, Lian_.

_Don't worry about it_, he reassured him. _I am here now_, kestra-an. _Whatever is bothering you, you need not fear it while I am by your side_.

He had to smile at Lian's arrogance, but felt better all the same. _What does 'kestra-an' mean?_

_It is the term my people use for a human bonded to one of us_, he answered. _Literally, it means 'heart-brother.'_ Kestra-ana _is 'heart-sister_.'

'_Heart-brother,'_ he echoed softly. _I like it. So, you are my_ kestra-an.

_Or you could just call me Sandrock, my nickname among my folk_. There was a distinct note of embarrassment in the feline's voice at the affection displayed in Quatre's tone.

Quatre smiled again, a real, full smile, something that happened only very rarely. _I have smiled more in these past three months than in the whole of the rest of my life_, he mused, half-sad.

_Your life has been very short_, Lian snorted. _As a Winner, you have many more years of life to look forward to, so I wouldn't become gloomy just yet._

Quatre laughed softly at his acerbity, but something about that phrase bothered him. _What do you mean, as a Winner?_

Lian was saved from answering when Duo half-crawled out of his own tent, looking groggy. "Is it time to wake up?" he asked blearily.

_It is time to leave_, Lian told him in an amused tone. The man groaned and pulled back into the tent, where he could be heard pulling on clothes and grumbling loudly about "slave-driver guides" and "obscenely cheerful in the morning." Lian bared his teeth in a feline smirk.

Quatre gave him a narrow-eyed look. _Our conversation will be finished later_, he warned him.

_Yes, dear_, Lian said in an absent tone, as though he was not really listening. His head was lifted, and he scented the air, his tail swishing restlessly. _I'll be back in a few minutes_, he announced, and bound away into the thickness of the trees before she could protest.

Duo crawled out of his tent, looked around, and scowled. "Don't tell me I did all that waking up for nothing."

"Lian will be back in a few minutes," Quatre said, trying not to show his own annoyance.

"That's a few more minutes for me to sleep," Duo muttered. "Honestly, 'good morning' is a contradiction of terms." He made as though to crawl back into his tent.

"You should pack your tent away," Quatre advised. "It will be less work for you to do when Lian gets back, and less a waste of time."

Duo glared at him. "I hate you and your reasonable little ways," he announced. Quatre wisely chose not to reply as he began to roll the tent and sleeping pack up, snarling all the while. Duo had displayed this sort of temper in the morning ever since Quatre had met him, and he had learned to ignore it.

He sat down on a fallen log, ignoring Duo's muffled curses in the background as the tent rebelled and refused to be rolled up under his clumsy hands. His hand went to his throat, and he caressed the emerald hanging there. He had placed the beautiful pendant around his neck soon after finding it three months ago, and had developed a habit of touching it whenever he was restless. It always seemed to grow warm beneath his fingertips when he was tense, and he experienced a soothing feeling. He imagined there was a protection charm of some kind imbedded in the charm, but he didn't know for sure, the pendant being a remnant of a life before his parents' deaths, a life he had no real memories of, just images and feelings. The bracelet of rare blue crystal beads was fastened to his left wrist, and was almost never removed, as it gave him the same type of comfort as the pendant.

"Where did you get that?"

Startled, he lifted his eyes to find that Duo had finally finished packing, and was regarding his pendant with fascination. "It has been mine since before I can remember."

"Emeralds – true emeralds – are rare enough," Duo persisted. "That one's got some kind of magic, I can feel it. Do you know what it can do?"

"No," Quatre admitted warily. "I do not."

Duo sat on the log beside him and held out his hand. "May I?"

Quatre felt a great reluctance to allow the man to handle something so precious to him, but reminded himself that Lian would not have tolerated his presence if the noble had meant him any harm. Slowly, he reached up and unfastened the chain that bound the emerald around his neck, giving over the pendant to Duo.

He let out a yelp and dropped the thing, Quatre hastily reaching out to catch it. "What was that about?" he demanded, not liking his property so treated.

"The damn thing stung me!" he said in an outraged tone. "What'd I ever do to it?"

Quatre looked at the pendant in his hand in puzzlement. It felt a little warm, but beyond that… "Try taking it again," he suggested.

Reluctantly this time, Duo held out his hand. Quatre once again placed the pendant in his palm.

Immediately the man winced. "Owww," he whispered, but did not drop it this time. Puzzled, Quatre touched the pendant. He felt a faint buzzing-like sensation, but nothing more. Yet, clearly Duo was feeling something painful, if the strained face he was making was any indication.

He lifted the pendant from Duo's palm, eliciting a sigh of relief from Duo, who massaged his hand. "Protective thing, isn't it?" he complained plaintively.

He ignored him, his attention focused on the pendant. For an instant after he had lifted the pendant from Duo's hands, his eyes had caught a strange, ember-like glow in the center of the stone. Just for a moment, barely noticeable, but it had been there.

"Apparently it doesn't like other people touching it," he mused. He took Duo's hand in his own and examined the palm. It appeared to be slightly burned. "Wait a moment. I have some ointment that will take the sting away, if that's an actual burn."

"It sure feels like one," Duo said in a cross tone. Quatre couldn't really blame him for speaking sharply. He dug into his own pack sitting beside him and found a small jar of ointment Lian had shown him how to make from different herbs. He smoothed a little of the cream onto Duo's palm, eliciting a sigh of relief from the noble. "Oh, that feels nice. Where did you buy it? I must get myself some for emergencies."

"I didn't buy it; I made it," Quatre said briefly, releasing his palm.

Duo's eyebrows went up. "Your talents increase with every day," he said in admiration. "You _will_ make some of this cream for me, won't you?" He gave him that winning smile that grated on Quatre's nerves.

White teeth flashed as Quatre smiled grimly. "For what I'd charge for it, you'd do better to get a cheaper, less effective ointment. It takes time to gather the herbs needed for this mixture; they only grow in certain spots."

Duo sighed. "And I am dramatically short of funds at the moment, and will be so until I manage to return to my home estate. Ah, well. At least I had the benefit of feeling your wonderful touch on my hand for a moment."

Quatre rolled his eyes and decided to ignore his flirting as Lian came trotting back into the camp clearing. "Now, your highness, are you ready to go?" he asked sarcastically.

_Yes, my vassal_, Lian said in a cool, lordly tone. Duo let out something that sounded suspiciously like a chuckle, but when Quatre turned his head to give him a narrow-eyed stare his face appeared perfectly innocent.

He sighed. "Between the two of you clowns, it will be a wonder if I maintain my sanity all the way to Hitsome." He held up a hand at Duo's protest. "Can we just get going?"

Both of the others realized that he was tired and wanted the journey to be over with. _Yes_, kestra-an, Lian said gently. _Let us continue. If we are to get Duo to Hitsome on time, we must leave now, to make the edge of Ransem Woods by nightfall._

"Then what are we waiting for?" Duo brightened. "Let's go!" He blinked, realized the other two had already started walking off. "Hey, wait for me!"


	9. Chapter 8

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters from Gundam Wing, and I do not make any money from the writing of this fanfiction.

Chapter 8

The cold, damp cell was dark, far beneath the ground. But not as dark as the eyes of his captor. The mage cowered away from the man before him, whose eyes burned like coals.

"You failed me." The voice was quiet, simply making a statement, but the mage was struck with absolute fear at its sound.

"Master, forgive me!" he begged. "I did not know the boy traveled with a _reanlos_! Give me another chance! I will not make another mistake, I swear it to you upon my life!"

The deadly man stirred then, and spoke in a voice of contempt. "I already own your life. Swear on something that still has worth."

"I swear to you by the Nine Levels of Zanadro's Hell!" Sweat poured down the mage's face as he pleaded with his captor.

His captor raised an eyebrow. "Do you now?" he almost purred, and extended a hand. Black fire snake from it to wrap around the captive's throat. The mage stared, dumb with shock, as the magic sank into his own skin.

His captor smiled, and the prisoner knew the true meaning of life-threatening terror. "Vow sworn. I would be very careful of your actions from now on. Lord Zanadro does not take oath-breaking kindly." The captor smiled, spun on his heel and left the cell, leaving the prisoner mage alone in the darkness once more.

One who was once known by a human name, but no longer, paced in the beautifully outfitted study designed specifically for magical use. He knew his slave would fail in his purpose. Oh, he would try – he had no choice, sworn as he was to Zanadro's Hells, but he would fail, and the Winner boy would escape once more.

The creature smiled grimly, almost pleased by that state of affairs. If you want something done right…

A sharp hum distracted him; he turned to his scrying crystal, which was glowing gold. He studied its contents, then let out a stream of powerful curses, his almost-good humor destroyed. Another warrior had awakened to threaten his Master's cause, one with power almost equal to that of the Winner boy. The Winner clan had been all but eliminated, at his order. The last of the most powerful reincarnations that existed within that clan would soon be out of the way. Who was this new threat?

His snarl increased in volume and hatred as his crystal revealed who the new enemy was. It was a warrior who, in long millennia before, he himself had battled. The skies around the tower he stood in darkened in response to his emotions; thunder crashed, and lightning lit the sky. A violent storm spanning hundreds of miles began to brew.

The one who was once a man clenched his fists. If _his_ old enemy had been reborn, then the time was overdue to launch into the more intense phase of his Master's plans.

Trowa Barton filtered into the tomb as gradually and as silently as the dust of old age. It had taken him months to track down the location of the place, months more to find the entrance, but if there was one thing Barton possessed, it was patience.

The mage laid his palms on the door. A crack split the silence of the night as the ancient mechanisms sealing the door groaned under the pressure of his power. "Do not see this!" his magic cried as the door slowly swung open. "Do not hear it!"

Trowa pulled a shroud of… not invisibility, but _reflection_ about him as he entered the tomb. It was not that he feared any mortal thing within the place; it had been sealed for more than three thousand years. But there were things within this tomb that were not mortal. Perhaps he could defeat them, perhaps not. It seemed wiser to Trowa to avoid the question altogether.

Three high-level demons patrolled the upper levels of the tomb, their eyes sharp enough to pierce even Trowa's shrouds of subtlety. They were identical triplets, their relationship increasing their power. They were all clad in red-pearl armor, and bore great brassbound maces. They guarded the door Trowa needed to pass to reach the lower levels. He waited.

One demon blinked, and he slipped between them in the instant that its eyes were closed. One sneezed, and then the great brassbound door was unlocked. Days later, one heard a sound from beyond the door. Finding it unlocked, the three demons departed in a rush of fetid air, having failed their millennia-long mission.

There were other obstacles to overcome. There were great crushing boulders that would have sealed him eternally, had he triggered them. There were stabbing blades and slashing blades, pitfalls and endless dead-ends. There were warding spells and deception spells, cages and traps, and a great, enchanted gem that stole the will from all that beheld it. He evaded the blades, ignored the pits and dead-ends, defeated the spells, overcame the gem, and came, at last, to the center of the tomb, far beneath the earth, deep within the land the dead had once treasured so much.

Mounted on a high dais was a magnificent gold sarcophagus, beautifully engraved with protective symbols and other elaborate carvings. Upon the lid of it was an engraving of a woman, decorated with the most brilliant and lifelike of enamels. Her skin was dark, like his, but she curved where he was willowy. Her hair was thick and rich as a horse's mane, and spilled over her shoulders just as his did when he allowed it to grow, which was only rarely. Her face was sharply defined, with high cheekbones, almond-shaped eyes, and lines of both laughter and sadness around the mouth; a nose was tilted up just enough to give the face a touch of mischief. She was gentle and lovely, and Trowa both reeled and rejoiced to see the face that had once been his.

He lifted the lid of the sarcophagus, and saw the sad dust the effigy atop it had become. In the center of the sarcophagus lay a beautiful ebony bow, the head formed into the shape of an eagle, that the arrows would fly as far and as fast as one; the inserts and grip were of black diamond. The wood of the bow was still limber, and the string on the bow still taut after three centuries.

He looked inside the coffin for long time, studying the dust. "That was me, once," he murmured aloud, heedless of the danger. He reached in and curled his hand around the bow, withdrawing it from its place of keeping for the first time in millennia. "And this is mine, again."

And the great darkness that covered Lantall because of the one who had once been human grew just a little brighter, as the hero and his bow were reunited.


	10. Chapter 9

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters from Gundam Wing, and I do not make any money from the writing of this fanfiction.

Chapter 9

_Many fought for this land, millennia ago_.

Quatre's eyes flickered briefly from the darkness surrounding them to Lian, then away again. He was using an old soldier's trick Lian had taught him, not looking directly at the campfire so as not to be blinded by its light. They had made it to the edge of Ransem Wood; hopefully they would reach Hitsome within the next day and a half and he would be rid of the annoying dandy.

His eyes flickered to the sleeping form of Duo, and he sighed, admitting to himself that Duo had grown on him over the past few days. _It must be his one saving_, he thought in half-disgust.

_I thought I was telling you a story_, Lian said, sounding miffed_. If you aren't going to pay attention…_

_Sorry, Lian. Keep going, please_, Quatre said hastily.

The _reanlos_' tail switched in a sign of his annoyance, then he went on. _In the age of Chaos, there were no kings or queens, no government as you humans know it now, no laws enforced by the neighborhood Watch. There was only power, and those with the will to use it. This land, which you humans now call Lantall, was coveted by those with strength._

_Why?_ Quatre asked, when Lian paused, scenting the air.

_There is something…_ Lian said, sounding distracted. _No, never mind. Lantall was…desired because of the natural power that lies within its ground_.

Quatre frowned. _I don't understand. What do you mean, natural power?_

_I have explained to you about wild magic, have I not?_ Lian sounded tired. _Human magic is…unnatural, power drawn from forces outside this world. Wild magic is…the threads that bind this world together, the power that exists in all magical creatures, the power that is inherent within the sylven people. It is thus that the sylven people, whom so many call "unnatural," are actually the ones that belong more truly to this world._

_Yes, I know what wild magic is_, Quatre said impatiently. _What does it have to do with Lantall?_

_This country, for whatever reason, possesses a tremendous amount of wild magic within its land. It is the reason Lantall is known to be the home of so many magical creatures_, and _the sylvens, despite human resistance to their presence_. They _know the true strength of Lantall. And so, thousands of years ago, did the human mages that resided here. And back then, there were no Laws of Balance to stop them from trying to take the power that they wanted._

_But there were other people_, Quatre said softly. _There were people who knew that it wasn't right to take from the land without giving in return_.

_Yes. And so, in that time, there arose two kinds of people: the greatest heroes that ever lived, and the greatest monsters to ever walk this earth. Battle upon battle was fought, sylvens versus humans, humans versus themselves, magical creatures versus all who encountered them. There was only one woman, in that time, that dared to befriend human, sylven, and wild creatures alike. She lost her home and family as a young girl, fled to the wilds to live among the wild things like a wild thing herself, only to grow in such power that she became a threat to those who threatened to destroy the Balance of this world_.

Quatre's eyes were bright as he kept his gaze on the darkness of the woods. "She must have had tremendous courage."

Lian chuckled inside his mind. _Her first encounter with a minor demon resulted in her fleeing for her life. Of course, she was five years old at the time, so perhaps she had an excuse._

"Knowing when to fight and when to run away is a part of courage," Quatre pointed out. "That is what you told me, is it not?"

_Yes. And that first encounter was what started her on the path of demon hunting, for that demon stole something very precious to her. It took her five more years to track the monster down, and another year to kill the creature. She learned much in that time period_.

Quatre listened in fascination. "She was a child, barely eleven. Yet she was able to kill a demon?"

_The Dark Defender was an extraordinary individual, yes_.

"That is what she came to be known as? The Dark Defender?"

_Yes. Her true name has been long lost. She hunted demons relentlessly, and swore allegiance to none. Well, that is not entirely true. There was one from whom she would occasionally accept orders – Jessan Coren. But theirs was more a partnership, though the Dark Defender was instrumental in establishing Jessan as the first king of Lantall. Say rather that Jessan was the blazing fire that pulled the land together, and the Dark Defender was the fuel to make certain the fire did not fade_.

"Tell me their story," Quatre whispered, feeling a strange pull, a need to know.

_Their story would be many, many nights in the telling, and I am tired. Enough for now. Wake me at the second hour after midnight, and I will take the rest of the watch. I will continue this story another time_. Lian shifted to lie down on his belly, and shut his eyes.

Duo lay on his side away facing away from Quatre. It was nice to know his guide had a fascination for the Age of Chaos. His cousin Milliardo had an enormous library, filled with rare papers and books, some of them from that time, considered extremely precious. He could use that as a bargaining tool to keep Quatre with him when the time came to persuade him to accompany him to Cliffbreak. He did not have much time left before Quatre would want to leave him in Hitsome and return to his wilderness.

Trowa Barton stood on the peak of a hill overlooking the carnage below him, and it was only by the fiercest act of will that the mage did not throw up. He stood looking at – not a battlefield, for on a battlefield there were two sides fighting. This has had been a slaughter, a merciless elimination of human life.

A single leap boosted by his crimson magic brought him from the hill to the center of the field. As he stood in silence, his crimson and gold power swirling about him, the lingering spirits of those who had been so coldly slain began to gather about him, drawn as surely to him as a predator is to its prey.

But Trowa Barton was no prey. The dark mage lifted his head, and his eyes glittered with tears for the first time in many years, but the tears did not fall. He had known the people whose bodies lay mangled in endless pools of blood. They were a wandering clan of gypsies, the Arami people, who were known for their kindness and willingness to take in homeless strangers. He himself had lived with these people for some time, until the ancient memories of who he had been had awakened, and he had left on a personal quest to regain lost knowledge and weapons. The Arami people were loyal to a man to Lafania of Lantall, the first ruler in several generations to treat them as a people, and to a man they lay dead on this field.

Trowa drew a single arrow from his quiver and drew it back to his ear. The arrow flew straight and true into the moonlight, and with it flew the lingering spirits as Trowa's spell opened a gate between the living world and the realm of the spirits.

Trowa watched them leave, and spoke, though they could no longer hear him. "For the crimes that have been committed this night, I will deal out justice tenfold. This I swear by the title that was mine millennia ago, the title of Dark Defender. I swear upon my bow the Dark Shield that the Arami people will not be forgotten, and for you all I will take a new name." His fingertips curled around the bow and pressed so tightly that they turned white as Trowa began to tremble – not just with grief, but with rage. "I am the Arami's Vengeance."

"Your majesty! Your majesty, please, listen to me!"

Annabel lifted her gaze from the book of magical spells she was perusing. Several of her guards were occupied with restraining a man from entering her entertainment hall. Several courtiers stirred, glancing with disapproval at the interruption.

Annabel frowned. The man seemed frantic. "Let him come!" she called commandingly to her guards. Grudgingly, they allowed him passage into the room.

He tore across the room and fell at her knees, eyes streaming tears of agony and heartbreak. Lafania gasped as she realized the man bore several mortal wounds, wounds that should have killed a man. "My queen, they are dead!" he said, his voice of utter despair.

"Who?" Annabel demanded, fear leaping within her as she recognized the man as an Arami gypsy. She often allowed their clan to camp on her personal lands, something few others chose to do.

"Everyone, majesty! Every Arami man, woman, and child!" The man sobbed. "I alone escaped, because I ran like a coward at the beginning!"

Annabel went very still inside. A part of her cried out in denial, but the cold, hard part of her that took command in such situations calmly recognized that the man was telling the truth. The complete anguish in his face was proof of that. That established, she took the next logical step. "Who attacked your people?" she asked distantly. Those of her personal guards who knew her well began to get nervous. That cool, distant tone had never meant good things for the ones it was directed at.

The man opened his mouth, desperately tried to speak, but black fires erupted from his skin and he screamed in agony instead, falling on his back and rolling in agony. The cold, analyzing part of Annabel noted that it was a death spell, and took action. Gold fire lashed from the queen's hands as she battled to lift the spell from the only survivor of the slaughter. The queen's face went dead white with effort as the black fires blazed more fiercely, and those present in the hall gasped.

Abruptly, a side door banged open and Milliardo Peacecraft tore across the hall to Annabel's side. He gripped Annabel's shoulders, and a blazing violet aura rose in the air about him as he joined his power to his queen's.

The black fires roared to a screaming fury, then just as suddenly as they had appeared, they vanished. Annabel was slumped in Milliardo's grip, his hands the only thing keeping her upright.

"Is he alive?" she asked hoarsely, her eyes on the gypsy, who was still and silent, his eyes shut, showing no sign of life.

"Barely," Milliardo answered. "He's locked in a coma that will kill him if those wounds aren't seen to."

His words caused Annabel to straighten. "Get me the best healer we have!" she snapped at the nearest guard. "NOW!" The guard ran.

Milliardo shook her, catching Annabel's attention. "What happened to that man?"

Annabel closed her eyes as grief poured fresh into her. "The Arami people have been slaughtered." She swallowed. "That death spell was a demon's. They were destroyed by a group of powerful demons."

Milliardo ignored the gasps of horror that ran throughout the hall at his queen's words. "Where?" he asked urgently. "Where were the Arami people?"

Annabel's eyes opened at his tone. "They were…heading for the northern edge of Ransem Wood when last I heard from them."

"Oh, gods," Milliardo breathed in something close to pure panic. The demons were on a direct course of collision with his cousin and the Winner boy.


	11. Chapter 10

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters from Gundam Wing, and I do not make any money from the writing of this fanfiction.

Chapter 10

~Begin dream~

I want to run away.

_So why don't you?_

I'd leave so much behind.

_That's the point, isn't it?_

Yes, but not everything here is…

_Bad?_

Yes. There must be a way…

_To what?_

To keep the good things, and throw the bad ones out.

_Nothing that's good lasts_.

True. Hey, I thought you were supposed to cheer me up.

_I'm your other self, not a miracle worker_.

Oh, go away.

_Not happening. Besides, didn't you know? Voices in your head always come back_.

….

Will you do it?

…_No. That's the one thing I can't do_.

Cannot or will not?

_If I did that, do you know what would happen?_

…

_Do you?_

If you won't do it, then never mind.

_I asked you a question_.

And I'm not answering.

_That still gives me an answer of sorts, you know_.

Oh, shut up.

…_You're going to do it, aren't you? What that demon said? You can't ever resist a challenge._

I said to shut up.

_And what are you going to do if I don't?_

This.

_Hey! No, you can't -!_

(quiet laughter)

_You evil bastard. You scared the hell out of me. What's _wrong_ with you?_

_You_ know that better than I do.

_Huh. I meant _besides _that_.

I…

_Don't know_.

Finishing my sentences now?

_Our sentences. We're really the same, you know_.

…Maybe.

_What's that supposed to mean?_

Nothing. Shut up. I want to sleep.

(sigh.) _You must be the only person in the world who can order around the voices in his head._

If I can order you around, then shut up.

_Shutting up now_.

Good.

_Good night_.

Good night. Didn't I tell you to shut up?

_I shut up. You're the one making all the noise now_.

…I give up on you.

_Good. It's about time_.

Aaargh.

~End dream~

Quatre opened his eyes slowly. It was still night; Lian was sitting up, his eyes scanning the darkness alertly. As the conversations from the dream replayed in his head, he felt his control begin to slip – and let it. He was angry, angrier than he'd ever felt before, and he no longer cared about the consequences of his actions.

Lian felt the guards around Quatre's magic drop, and sprang to his feet, hair on end. Duo jolted awake as Quatre's aura flared brilliantly about him, and stared at his guide in shock.

Quatre had forgotten about the voice in his mind during his stay at Veran Hall, and once his memories had been retrieved, he had dared to hope the voice was gone for good. He hadn't thought about the voice in the months he'd traveled with Lian, and it had been a blessed relief.

He hadn't thought about that one particular conversation, either.

_You're going to do it, aren't you?_

Quatre found himself on his feet without remembering how he'd gotten there. His eyes landed on Lian, who was backed away from him, fur on end and teeth bared. "Lian?" he murmured, his voice pulsing with power.

_Get back!_ Lian snapped at Duo. _That's not Quatre!_

Quatre watched, puzzled, as Duo hastily moved behind Lian. Then a voice spoke inside his head, a voice of menace and evil. _Such power_, it purred. _You are quite a worthy vessel_.

_Nooo…_ Too late, Quatre realized what losing control of his power for that brief moment had done. His shields had dropped, and a demon had felt his power, and taken advantage of it. He was possessed.

With his last control, he teleported himself away from Lian and Duo to an open field some miles away. And just in time, as the demon made its first bid for complete control of his body. Power blasted across the field as he fought.

_No! I – will not – let – this – happen – again!_

_Quatre, listen to me!_ Another voice rang in his mind – the voice of his other self, the voice Quatre had dared to hope was gone forever. _Quatre, you have to join your power with mine!_

Tears burned in Quatre's eyes as the temporary peace he had obtained traveling alone with Lian flew away like the summer birds with the first hint of fall. _NO_.

Quatre swayed, struggled to get his wayward powers back under his command to help fight the demon.

_**QUATRE**_!

The word was mental roar that drove him to his knees. He looked up and saw Lian and Duo standing on the edge of the clearing. Power poured into him from Lian, and his voice rang in Quatre's mind again. _Now!_

Quatre took hold of the demon in his mind and, using the combined strength of his magic and Lian's, unceremoniously threw the demon out. It let out a last defiant shriek before vanishing from his mind. _You cannot fight us all!_ Pain shrieked through his mind as the demon lashed out with a last flare of strength. Lian's power immediately touched his mind, soothing away the pain, but he could not soothe the anger that was surging in Quatre.

_I…hate to say this, but that thing's right_. The voice of his alternate self was shaky. _You must join your strength with mine again, Quatre. I have respected your wishes and remained silent these past months, but I cannot do so anymore. You nearly destroyed the entire wood with your lack of control_.

_NO_. The tears still burning in Quatre's eyes spilled. _I turned from your path, gave the responsibilities to another. All I want is to be left alone. I will not be controlled by that stupid thing people call duty!_

_You damn stubborn IDIOT! You were never controlled, you just felt like you were!_

_SHUT UP._ With his last strength, Quatre magically took hold of the other presence in his head, shoved it into the far reaches of his mind, and used the greatest amount of power he could manage to set barriers to keep him there.

"Quatre!" The last thing Quatre saw was Duo tearing across the field toward him before his legs gave out beneath him and everything went black.

Duo reached Quatre's side, hastily grabbing his wrist to feel for a pulse. _He's unconscious, but he will live_, Lian said shortly, joining him. Duo was not paying him much mind, scanning the area with his magic. He picked up something and let out a powerful stream of obscenities in several languages that, in other circumstances, Lian would have found fascinating. As it was though, _What is it?_ Lian demanded urgently.

"We're about to have company," Duo said grimly. "You'll have to take care of the ones from above."

Lian bared his teeth savagely and took off into the sky with a feral hunting call. Duo remained by Quatre's side, his hands flying through the air as he began tracing the most powerful shielding symbols he knew around them. There was no time to flee; the demon he had sensed was too close.

Duo swallowed as a storm began to build. Above, he could hear roars and shrieks of rage and pain, feel power flaring as Lian and the winged demons who had been drawn to the clearing by Quatre's power flare fought. Wishing the _reanlos_ all the luck and power of the world, he turned to face the demon who stood on the ground just outside the clearing.

The monster was vaguely human-like, walking on two feet upright, with somewhat humanlike facial features. But this thing had claws instead of hands and feet, horns rose from the top of its head, fangs gleamed in its mouth, and in its eyes glowed a red fire that was not human in the least. That fire was merciless, unrelenting, complete in its evil.

Duo's breath was knocked out of him as he realized what the thing was – a master demon. The thing began to pace across the field toward Duo and Quatre, apparently in no hurry, and a moment later Duo realized why as the power of his shields began to drain away, flowing into the demon and giving it strength.

_Oh, gods_.

Duo swallowed, and began the chant for a spell that would destroy the creature. But his strength was flowing away from him, and there wasn't going to be enough time. His sight began to blacken around the edges.

Lian, splattered in the purple and green blood of the monsters he had slain, landed directly beside Duo, and leaned against the man. All of a sudden, fresh strength, alertness, and power flooded Duo, and his hands came up. Violet fires lashed from his hands to wrap around the demon.

The creature paused, and curiously examined the fires that would not absorb into it. It touched the fire with one claw, and that set off a reaction. The fires flared from slender threads into a blazing bonfire, and the creature let out an animal shriek of rage and pain. Black fires rose to combat Duo's spell, and the violet power grew even greater. It turned into a pillar of flame, a pillar in which the master demon was completely consumed. It disappeared with a roar of absolute agony, leaving Duo's spell still blazing.

Duo no longer had control over the spell; its one purpose was to destroy demons, and once enacted, it continued until it burned out, which could take days. Finished with the master demon who had dared to attack Duo and Quatre, the violet pillar swirled into a cyclone, and headed for Ransem Wood. A series of howling and roars that soon rose up into the night told Duo the spell had found more victims.

Duo found himself lying on the ground next to Quatre with no real idea of how he'd gotten there, his newfound strength gone. "Did _he_ know you could do that?" he asked Lian, his eyes flickering to Quatre. "Lend your strength to a human like that?"

_Of course not_, was the smug answer. _He may be my_ kestra-an, _but I don't have to tell him _all_ my secrets_.

"Lovely." Duo's eyes were closing. "Wake me up if the world ends, but make sure it's a really spectacular ending first."

_As you wish_, Lian answered, knowing Duo was already dead to the world. The _reanlos_ settled himself between Quatre and Duo with a sigh. Once again, he was stuck with guard duty.

~QWQWQWQWQWQWQWQWQWQWQWQWQW~

Quatre woke to the sound of thunder and the soft hiss of rain. He blinked, wondering why he wasn't wet, and looked up. A black wing blocked his view of the sky, completely shielding him.

He turned his head to look at Lian, who was lying on his belly between Duo and himself, wings spread over them to keep them dry. He was soaking wet, rain dripping from his very whiskers, and definitely not happy.

_I – HATE – rain_, came his savage snarl inside Quatre's head.

He sat up, Lian's feathers brushing his face and shoulders. He put his arms around Lian's neck and hugged him tight. _Thank you_, kestra-an.

The snarling feline softened a little, and nuzzled his neck. _You didn't tell me you were a reincarnation_.

He pulled away from him a little, frowning. _A – what?_

Lian stared at him for a moment, then Quatre felt a ripple of realization run through him. _You really don't know, do you?_

"Know what?" he asked in annoyance.

He answered his question with another. _Why was the Winner clan attacked by a horde of demons and nearly completely destroyed?_

Quatre went pale and pushed him away, staring. At that precise moment, Duo stirred, groaning. He turned toward him, still very pale.

Duo's eyes flickered, then focused blearily on his face, and he smiled crookedly. "What a wonderful view to wake up to," he murmured. He slid an arm under Duo's shoulders and helped him sit up.

"What happened after I lost consciousness?" Quatre wanted to know.

Duo opened his mouth to answer, but at that precise moment, Lian folded his wings and began to stalk away, abruptly exposing the two humans to the rain, so that instead of answering his question, Duo let out a protesting, "Hey!"

_You're awake now, so find your own shelter_, was Lian's cross response.

Duo opened his mouth to complain some more, but Quatre put his hand over it. "He has a point, you know," he murmured, and pushed himself to his feet, helping Duo to do so as well. "Do you have any idea where our camp is, by the way?"

Duo's gaze rested on Quatre's face for a moment before he answered, "Errr, somewhere that way?" with a general wave toward the forest Lian was heading for.

The feline glanced over his shoulder at the two. _I know where the camp is, just follow me_.

"At least one of us knows what they're doing," Quatre muttered half-heartedly, starting after Lian. Duo, still exhausted from his fight with the master demon, waited until Quatre was a good ways ahead of him before giving him the disbelieving look Duo could not suppress.


	12. Chapter 11

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters from Gundam Wing, and I do not make any money from the writing of this fanfiction.

Author's Note: I liiiiiiiiiiiiive! Sorry for the long time between updates.

**Quiet Man Cometh** pointed out to me through a review and brief series of messages that my Duo reminded him too much of the character Danilo, who is the male lead from the novel _Elfshadow_ that I mentioned as inspiration in an earlier chapter. He (or she) was right, and as a result, I have spent the last few weeks going over my future chapters in an attempt to improve characterization and organize some of my twisty plot threads. I would like to thank him (her) for his thoughtful comments, as they have greatly helped me develop my story.

And thanks very much to **killing u with umbrellas** for reviewing nearly every chapter in this story – I feel special. And your name amuses me ;)

Chapter 11

Trowa paced through the Ransem Wood silently. For the past several weeks, he had wandered through the wilds of the south, demon hunting. The master demons of Ransem now had cause to fear Trowa, he who called himself the Arami's Vengeance.

Some time during the night, he had awakened upon sensing a power flare from a very strong mage. He recognized the destruction spell for what it was, and wondered who in this wilderness besides himself would have the power to destroy a master demon. It took a tremendous amount of strength to work the spell he had sensed, power only a master mage had access to.

"Shut up, Duo."

"Oh, come on, Kat! Not even a hint?"

Trowa melted silently into the shadows of the trees as he heard the voices. There was a slight rustle, and a _reanlos_ paced forward into Trowa's view. Trowa's breath caught at the sight of the extraordinarily rare magical creature.

Lian paused to wait for his two humans to catch up. His eyes flickered toward the shadows, automatically scanning for danger. Trowa remained still and silent, hardly daring to breathe. His camouflage spell made him a part of the shadows, but if the _reanlos_ possessed a magical sight strong enough to see through his subtle spell…

Lian spotted the human man in an instant, but said nothing, made no sign of recognition. Quatre and Duo paced forward into view, Duo still pestering Quatre.

"So why the hell did you faint, if you weren't out of magical power? You say the demon that possessed you had no draining capabilities, but –"

Quatre turned on him, finally at the end of his limit. "It is NONE OF YOUR BUSINESS! You refuse to give me a straight answer on anything that happened after I lost consciousness, I see no reason to explain myself to you! I am taking you to Hitsome, dumping you on the first trader stupid enough to say they will take you home, and I will be damn glad to be rid of you!"

Duo stared at him, but seemed to be intelligent enough to realize that dire things might happen if he provoked Quatre further, and held his tongue. Quatre stalked away from Duo and Lian, making for the main path leading out of Ransem that would bring him to Hitsome as fast as his feet could carry him without actually running.

_So_, Trowa thought. H_e is the one I sensed last night?_ The dark-skinned mage paced the younger boy silently, noting the man and reanlos following.

Quatre had walked nearly a mile into the open fields beyond the Wood, anger curling tight within him, before he realized there was another presence following him other than Duo and Lian. He stopped dead, his eyes flaming.

_Kat?_ Lian's voice, which had stayed silent since he had sensed the anger flowing in him, gently touched his mind.

Quatre's eyes were cold and flat. "I have no tolerance for spies," he said icily. "Whoever's there, come out."

Trowa studied the boy a moment more, just to be certain of his suspicion, then dropped the camouflage spell, and lifted an eyebrow at the glaring boy. "No tolerance for spies? I would say, rather, no tolerance at all at this point."

Quatre's glare increased. "Just so," he agreed savagely. "Are you going to tell me why you were following me?"

Trowa's gaze was cool and calm. "I have been traveling these wilds for some time, hunting demons. I felt a tremendous power flare last night – a spell to destroy a master demon. Few have access to the power required for that spell – only master mages. I wished to know from whom the power originated."

Quatre went very still inside. The demon that had possessed him was powerful, but not a master. He would normally have been more than a match for it, easily, had it not been for the fact that his powers were out of control. He had lost consciousness because he had had to fight both the demon and his powerful alternate self. He had not cast any spells ranked among that of master before that point, yet this stranger…

Slowly, deliberately, he turned to face Duo, who was eyeing him with more than passing nervousness. "Duo?" His voice was angelically sweet, and the man winced, knowing what was to come. "Would you care to _explain_ this good man's statement to me?"

Duo prudently took a couple of steps backward before reluctantly answering, knowing his charade with Quatre was about to end. "Yes, well, when your power went out of control last night, it caught the notice of several…err…creatures. Really, my dear, your lack of discipline –"

"You _will_ eventually get around to giving me the explanation I desire, will you not?" Quatre's voice remained syrupy-sweet.

Duo grimaced, and decided to bite the bullet. "We were attacked by a master demon," he said bluntly. "_You_ weren't awake to take care of it, so I had to."

Quatre stared at him, little suspicions and slight slips on Duo's part falling into place in his mind. "You weren't lost," he said in a flat tone. "You were sent."

Duo nodded.

"Why?"

Duo's eyes flickered toward the dark stranger, who favored him with a mocking smile. "Yes, do tell him, Duo Maxwell-Peacecraft," the stranger encouraged. "I am interested in hearing what sort of plot Milliardo Peacecraft has involved himself in this time."

Duo gaped at him, caught off guard. "Who _are_ you?"

Trowa accorded the three of them a mocking little bow. "I am Trowa Barton."

Duo's eyes went wide with recognition. "What in the name of Zanadro's Seven Hells are you doing out here?"

"Just what I told you," Trowa said, a hint of chilliness in his otherwise calm tone. "Hunting demons. The question, is what _you_ are doing here."

Trapped beneath the gazes of the two men, Duo edged away, only to run into Lian, who had gotten behind him and cut off his escape. _Traitor_, Duo hissed at the _reanlos_ in his mind. He received an impression of deep amusement before the great feline closed his mind to the man.

Duo turned back to Quatre, who was giving him an evil look. He sighed, knowing the beautiful young man was about to become very angry with him. "I was sent to protect you. Because you are one of the last of the Winners, and therefore precious to many."

Quatre's eyes narrowed dangerously. "And who, pray tell, was the concerned party that felt such a need to butt in on my business?"

"My cousin, Milliardo Peacecraft." Duo steeled himself. "He is Annabel's primary wizard and head of the council of mages in Lantall."

"How very nice for him." Duo winced at the scathing sarcasm. "So he, as the queen's puppet, sent his little cousin out into the wilderness to protect a Winner – or, to put it in political terms, to protect the queen's interest in a potentially powerful ally."

He knew more about the political situation of today than Duo and Milliardo had given him credit for. "That about sums it up," he agreed with Quatre reluctantly. "My cousin didn't think you'd know much about what's going on in Lantall right now politically, and he told me to…err…"

"Butt in," Quatre supplied, his tone colder than black ice.

Duo felt the need to defend his cousin. "He was concerned for your well-being. Demons hunt all of Winner blood right now, and no one in the magical world seems to know why. Winners possess a power unlike anything else in the world, and –"

"Do I look like I need help defending myself?" Quatre inquired in a suddenly-calm tone. Duo, sensing a trap, wisely remained silent. "I asked you a question, Duo Maxwell of…Cliffbreak, unless I'm much mistaken."

Duo continued to eye him warily, but answered. "You certainly needed help last night, didn't you?"

Quatre's eyes narrowed. "True," he answered calmly enough. Duo's relief was short-lived as he continued, "However, Lian has more than enough power to defeat a master demon. I did not need _your_ assistance."

Something clicked inside Duo's brain, and he whirled on Lian. "You set me up!"

_Of course_, Lian agreed. _Are you just now realizing this?_

Trowa, observing the outraged look on Duo's face, laughed. "You are human," he pointed out to the upset mage. "_Reanlos_ have never been known for their kindness to our kind, now have they?"

Duo whirled to face Trowa. "And just what the hell are you doing out here? My cousin told me you were gathering intelligence on Rhys Ravenwing's death. He told me you were an awakened reincarnation, one of the four still left alive. You can't possibly be wandering around in this wilderness without some kind of purpose."

"I told you the truth. I'm hunting demons," Trowa said calmly.

Awakened reincarnation. Those words echoed in Quatre's mind with intense significance. Slowly, he turned to Lian, who met his gaze. _You didn't think you were just hearing voices, did you?_ he asked softly.

While Trowa continued to evade Duo's questions, Quatre turned his focus inward, to the magical barriers he had wrought last night to keep his alternate self suppressed. He closed his eyes, and sent his consciousness to that place inside of him.

He hovered just outside the barriers, still unsure. _Are you…someone else, from long ago?_ he asked softly.

_I am, and I am not_, came the equally quiet answer.

_Can't you just talk straight for once?_

_There is no simple explanation for what I am. I am a…consciousness within you. I once existed, in another time and place, and when my body perished, my soul remained behind. Your soul._

_Then…we are the same?_

_In essence. But you are you, and I am me. The body is yours, the powers are yours, the decisions are yours. I still have a few powers that were my own, originally, but my – our – soul was reborn with your consciousness. We are separate entities, and yet not._

_So…I am what they call a reincarnation._

_Not quite. Reincarnations remember their past lives, the lives the soul within them led long ago, but the consciousness of those past lives is not present. It is only memories, and knowledge. We are a special case._

_Great_. Quatre was disgusted.

_It is not so bad as all that_, his other self said, sounding slightly offended.

**I had no childhood because of you**, Quatre snapped. _I was raised with the intent of becoming a guardian, an all-powerful force to wander the world righting all evils and healing all ills. I was taught that duty was everything, because of the power I possessed. I was five years old! What did I know of power?_

_You knew enough_, his alternate self reminded him softly.

_I knew enough – and learned enough - to know I wanted no part of it_, Quatre snapped back. _I gave the duty of Guardian to my elder cousin and got out. What right do you – or anyone – have to force me back?_

_None of us have that right_. The voice was sad. _I am sorry you had so little happiness as a young one, and I am sorry your innocence was lost so early. But I cannot change the fact that we share a soul and would – were you not so stubborn – share tremendous powers, if you would only join your strength with mine_.

_Not a chance_, Quatre snapped back. _I am not losing whatever it is that keeps me separate from you._

_You would not lose the part of you that makes you_ you. The voice was exasperated now. _I have been trying to tell you this for years. Joining your powers to mine would create a permanent connection between our two consciousnesses, and amplify your strength with mine, but it would not blend our 'minds' together. It would be much like the connection you have with Liandramonedarym at the moment, only on a more subconscious level. And I would be able to speak with you more easily, and more often_.

Quatre remained silent, still unsure. _I'll let you out_, he said finally. _Just…behave for right now, and let me do things my way. I'll talk with you about this…joining thing later_.

He returned his consciousness to what was happening in front of him. Trowa was gazing at him thoughtfully, Duo was gripping his shoulders and shaking him.

"-tre! Wake up!"

Quatre focused his eyes on Duo. "Let go of me, you oaf," he advised softly, dangerously. Duo released him as though he'd been burned. Quatre moved his eyes to Lian. "You knew."

_Yes_, Lian admitted. _The moment I met you_.

"Is that why you befriended me?"

Duo, listening, was confused. What had Lian known?

_Yes_, was Lian's quiet answer. _I knew you were different from other humans. I knew I could trust you_.

"How?" Quatre wanted to know. "How did you know you could trust me? For all you knew, I could have been possessed by a psychotic killer from three thousand years ago."

_You are a Winner_, Lian said, as though that explained everything. When Quatre continued to stare at the feline, he sighed and said, _The Winner clan has long been a bloodline known for possessing reincarnations. Your very nature as a Winner prevents any evil from sharing your soul, so I knew your 'other self' had to be a defender from long ago_.

Quatre's eyes abruptly sharpened as pieces began to fall into place at a remarkable speed. "That's why the demons attacked my clan. Too many of their old enemies were being reborn."

_And too many new enemies were being created_, Lian agreed. _For every reincarnation in the Skywind clan, there was born another warrior of this generation with equally formidable talents_.

"The enemies that the warriors who are being reborn fought are still here." His gaze landed on Trowa, who had observed the exchange with interest. "Aren't they?"

"Why would you ask me such a thing?" Trowa asked coolly.

Quatre's eyes remained razor sharp. "I'm not stupid, and I'm not without my own magical power. You are a reincarnation, I heard Duo call you such. You know, don't you? Who's behind the demons?"

Trowa's eyes locked with Quatre's, and there was a silent battle of wills. After a moment, Trowa was the one to look away, a calm, deliberate movement. "I do not know anything for certain. I have suspicions, that is all."

"Suspicions are more than anything my cousin or Annabel have," Duo said, pouncing on his words. "Why have you not come to Milliardo or the queen?"

Trowa's eyes rested on Duo, and they held none of the dark amusement of earlier; now they were colder than ice. "I answer to none."

Lian, watching Trowa, suddenly let out a rumble of amusement. _I know you now_, he chuckled in an "open" thoughtwave to all three humans.

"Do you?" The iciness remained in Trowa's gaze.

_My, but these are getting to be interesting times_, Lian noted. _The Dark Defender has returned. I wonder who else has been reborn. Jessan Coran, perhaps?_

Trowa stared intently at the _reanlos_ for a moment, then shook his head. "No, the first king has not been reborn." In response to Lian's inquiring stare, he said simply, "I would have felt it."

_Interesting_, Lian mused.

"Can we get _back_ to the subject at hand?" Quatre asked softly, bringing the attention of everyone back to rest squarely on him.

"Yes, let's." Trowa focused his dark, probing eyes on Quatre. "What were you doing just now?"

"Talking to my other self," Quatre said quietly, knowing the reincarnation would understand.

"Fascinating," Trowa responded. "So what did she – or he – say?"


End file.
